


Run Into My Arms Again (walk with me into the light) - Febuwhump

by itsreallylaterightnow



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spiderman - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Drugs, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I swear, It just takes a while to get there, Kidnapped Peter Parker, Major character death - Freeform, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Peter would die for morgan, Precious Morgan Stark, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Sad Peter Parker, Sickness, So much torture, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Torture, Whump, but it has a happy ending, febuwhump 2020, if it has to do with whump it is probably in this, it has a happy ending, kidnapped morgan stark, no spoilers but it is in the first chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 17:34:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 37,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsreallylaterightnow/pseuds/itsreallylaterightnow
Summary: Tragedy strikes Peter Parker’s life again. He wasn’t ready for it, and he knows that he will never be the same, but after four months of college, he is beginning to think that he will learn to be whole again. He has his family; May and Happy, and the support of the Starks to help bring him happiness again.Then, the unthinkable happens. When Peter finds himself in the clutches of someone that wants nothing but to see Tony Stark burn to the ground, how will he find the strength to hold on until help arrives? And will he be able to protect his newfound family in the process?
Relationships: Happy Hogan/May Parker (Spider-Man), Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 397
Kudos: 377





	1. (Lost) - Don't Leave Me Now

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyyy thank you all for clicking on this work! A couple of notes for you before you dive into this bad boy!
> 
> First and foremost thank you to my AMAZING beta readers! I could not have done it without you both! @akillerqueenyouare & @seaweedbrain3000 on Tumblr! Check them both out! Both are so incredibly talented, and did so much to help ensure that this was somewhat readable ;) 
> 
> Secondly, this takes place after Endgame. In this timeline Carol Danvers is the one that snapped (she won't be in this story but just so know exactly where we are in the timeline!) Also, Steve didn't do the out of character crap and leave with the stones. He is still very much so present for this fic!
> 
> Thirdly, this is a whump-filled fic! If you are not prepared for that, then please don't click on, but I will give specific warnings before each chapter. The warnings will contain spoilers, so don't read unless you are prepared for that! 
> 
> Lastly, please don't forget to come say hi on my tumblr! (Itsreallylaterightnow)! I have put so much work into the fic, and I cannot wait for your feedback! 
> 
> I am posting this early, because I won't be able to post tomorrow, I'll be out all day at a basketball game! So, you're welcome! :)
> 
> Now, sit back, relax, and dig into this inter-connected labor of my love! 
> 
> Warnings: Major Character Death, Panic Attack, Mild Dissociation. 
> 
> Song: Falling x Harry Styles

He wasn’t okay. He hadn’t been okay, and he wouldn’t be okay for the foreseeable future. Actually, he wouldn’t be okay forever. Past this life and into whatever lay on the other side.

The other side. God, it sounded beautiful. To be there. To be with her. 

To be with her dark hair, intense- unwavering eyes. To see her. Just one last – white-knuckle-gripping – time. One last time. To wrap his arms around her thin waist, to feel the comfort and protection that he held around her. To shower her in the love that he felt in every inch of his body for her. He wanted to kiss her lips- they were the softest things he had ever felt. If eyes were the window to the soul, her lips were the opening of the window and inviting him into her life. 

He could have listened to her voice forever. He could have just sat - unwavering. Unfaltering - beside her forever. His eyes roaming over her face, taking in the rays of sunshine that they leaked out. The warmth from her soul shining onto his – knowing he was truly and irrevocably immortal beside her. 

It was the knowledge that he had been wrong. So horribly, undeniably, painstakingly wrong. That in one split second – he had lost that light forever. To be alone forever. To be so lonely. Forever. 

He could remember. The exact moment. The single, millisecond that he lost his entire world. That he shattered the glass figure that he had sworn to protect for life.

His back screamed in pain, his shoulder yanking him violently. The web in his left hand pulling taught. All he could think was that he’d done it! He’d killed the Green Goblin, and saved MJ! Peter had tugged her up, and into his arms, a small smile on his face, as her nose had rested in the crook of her neck. MJ had never liked heights or falling. He’d owe her a date to her favorite coffee shop for this one. He’d pulled them back up holding her so-tightly in his arms, finding Iron Man, standing on guard to help should any problems arise.

“We did it, Tony. No more- no more of this chaos, though MJ may never want to go on another date with me again,” He had teased. 

“Friday, are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?” Peter had frowned then. 

“Mr. Stark, I just told you, he’s dead. I promise.” But Peter was just ignored. Tony had called the suit to retract as he stepped out calmly. But there was this look- tingling down his spine – this look on Tony’s face that was so… so gravely serious. That Peter physically stumbled back. MJ was still limp in his arms, so he tugged her tighter, waiting for her to get past the “shock” stage and into the “yelling” stage that was sure to come.

“Kid-” The older man’s voice broke off. Peter just looked around, frowning as he tugged his mask off when he saw there were no civilians. “Kid, I need you to sit down.” Peter had just pulled her closer to him, shaking his head. 

It started in his toes. The grief. He had known. When e had been unable to hear the heartbeat that had become second nature to him. He had known when she hadn’t moved since he’d caught her. He had known, when he’d seen her closed eyes. He had known when he’d felt no breath coming from her. 

Peter stumbled forward. The weight of the girl in his arms too much for him. Collapsing down- right to his knees as he had struggled to breath.

“Tony-Tony-Tony-Tony-Tony -Tony -Tony -Tony -Tony – something’s wrong something’s wrong something’s wrong something’s wrong- help me, please help me!” he didn’t realize he was screaming. Tony had kneeled beside him, trying his best to pull MJ’s still form into his arms, but Peter had just gripped her tighter, pulling her face to his as he readjust his grip. His hand running through those curls- the last time they would run through those curls. 

“Hey, Michelle, Michelle- stay with me. Stay with me. You stay with me!” The something tore. His heart, being carved from his chest as a cry tore from his throat. And tears ran down his face faster than he could have imagined. And Peter was bent over her face, weeping – unable to stop himself as the cries tore from his throat. 

“PLEASE! God- please no!” 

He doesn’t remember, now, how long he’d sat there. Holding her as her body had grown colder. He had sobbed until strong hands had removed her from him. Taking her away. Death- jealous of the love they’d held for one another, had stolen her straight from his grasp. Then warm arms. He needed warm arms. He’d been so cold. Chills racing up and down his body. A world without sunlight in it. A world without hope, with no way for him to fix it. A world where he never again would smile. His sun had gone down. And no more would he feel.

Something laid over his shoulders, familiar, strong hands helping him stand as numb footstep after numb footstep carried him to the nearest vehicle. Someone was talking - but he didn’t hear it. Someone was holding him. He couldn’t feel it. 

He doesn’t know how long they drove, but eventually the moving blurs of the vehicle stopped. But Peter’s world continued to flash by him as he desperately tried to tie himself down. Then his foot touched the ground, and he had screamed as though he been stabbed, his body collapsing. Someone reaching for him- dark eyes and motor oil – but Peter had screamed more. 

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” The arms raised in surrender as the eyes plead for an answer. “I did it, Mr.- oh God- I did this! I – I caught her- and I, it was too much- she died because-I” And then he couldn’t breathe. He was under the building, hands shaking as he pushed at the concrete. The concrete had hands, as his vision blurred with dark spots. He could hear yelling, but it didn’t matter, it would never matter. 

Something pricked his arm, and Peter felt his body beginning to go limp. A strange peace settling over him. Someone’s fingers in his hair (he’d ran his fingers through her hair too). 

“We’ve got you, Pete. We’ve got you.” As his eyes closed, his soul eternally grateful for the peace the darkness brought. 

~~~ 

So, here he found himself. Stone cold- sat against the side of her tombstone. His fingers running over the etching of her name. She had been so much more than just her name. Tony had paid for the funeral, the tombstone – it was a beautiful black marble with gold etching. Exactly what Michelle would have picked for herself. 

You know, she had always told Peter that flowers were ridiculous. “They just die, Peter. Sure they’re pretty for a while, but why waste time and money on something that will just wither away too soon?” If he could go back – God if only he could go back – he would have grabbed her face and drawn his own into a deadly serious stare:

“Michelle,” the lone boy in the winter cold whispered to no one. “Michelle, you love the flowers, and admire the flowers continuously, every aching day that you have with them because you never know when it will be the last. You grip tightly to each petal, and you watch as the color drifts away slowly, because you know that they will wilt and die. You know that you only have a limited amount of time with them, so you sit and admire their beauty for every possible second that you have been granted with them. And then when it’s over, you sit and thank them for gracing you with their time. For being your brightness in the dull room. For lighting up every day with a splash of color in the dreary world. And then, you’ll decide to never buy flowers again. Because you know that it will never be the same as the first time.” 

He took a shuddering breath, the wind stabbing at his lungs. 

“It will never be the same as the first time.”


	2. (Fever) - I Can’t Sweat It Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy! Sorry for a bit of a slow update! I almost did it last night at 12 but I was so tired honestly I crashed and went to bed! So, here it is! This chapter is starting to pick up into the plot of the rest of this story! I really hope you all enjoy this piece! It is going to really pick up pace at the end of this chapter and from here on out just... be ready! 
> 
> No warnings for this chapter! 
> 
> Song: Fine Line x Harry Styles

It had been four months. Too long. Too short. It felt like a second and five years at the same time. It was December now. Peter had just gotten done with finals, somehow. He felt as if he’d been wading through syrup trying his best to get to just move into the next day without drowning. He had gone to Columbia, unable to make himself leave the city. It was all he had left of her. Their experiences. Being able to see the coffee shops she loved and remember the places she hated. It was one of the few things he was able to hold on to. Tony had tried to tell Peter that he had to move on, but truth is, he didn’t want to. 

Peter needed to be able to visit her grave. He had to be able to put flowers down, to tell her about his week. Ned used to go with him, but it was too much. And, his friend had gotten into MIT. He had been unsure, not wanting to leave Peter in such an unstable manner, but Tony and May had assured him that they’d take care of the spider-ling. 

He had yet to go out as Spider-man again. He could feel the grievance of the city alongside him. Crime rates had begun to climb, and people were losing hope. Yet, every time Peter reached for the red and blue suit, he ended up hunched over in a panic attack unable to think. 

Peter took a deep breath through his mouth as he blew into the tissue in his hand. Even spider-boys could catch colds apparently. He was on his way home to meet May so they could head up to the lake house. She had decided that it would be best for Peter to not be in the city during the holidays. Tony had already extended an invite to them for Christmas, so they’d accepted. The only demand that Peter held was that he be able to go to visit MJ once a week. With some reluctance, the others had agreed. 

Peter walked up the stairs from the subway, his backpack slung over his shoulder. His head felt like cotton balls had been violently stuffed into it, but he just ignored the feeling. 

It was one of those bad days. The days that his entire body held no energy. Where every little thing reminded him of golden-brown eyes and the perfect days that he had left behind. He felt a weight on his back, pulling him further and further to the ground. As if he could sink through the concrete and no one would notice. 

He turned the last corner to his street, and he could see May finishing putting the bags in the car with Happy. Peter took a deep breath, wincing at the sharp stab of pain behind his eyes. Everything was too bright, and he was so cold. He felt like the temperature had gone down ten degrees in the time it had taken him to walk from the subway to the apartment. 

Peter saw Happy waving at him, and he nodded at the man. Then the door to the Audi was pulled open. Peter was a bit surprised to see Morgan Stark come bursting from the back seat of the car. “Petey!” Her six-year-old voice called as she sprinted toward him. It drew a smile from him, as he picked up the younger girl. 

“What are you doing here, missy?” He asked, tucking her against his side. 

“I wanted to come with Hap to pick you and Aunt May up!” She squealed as he tickled her side. Peter gave May a kiss on the cheek. 

“Oh, it’s good to have my boy back.” She said, frowning inwardly as she kissed him on the cheek. “Peter, are you feeling alright? You feel warm.” May pressed the back of her hand to his forehead as Morgan wiggled from his grip and began to climb back into the vehicle. 

“I haven’t felt that well. I think I’m just tired, you know?” Peter said, as he pulled his backpack from his shoulder.  
May nodded. “Well, all we have planned for the rest of today is to sit around a log cabin and sleep, so let’s get going.” Happy took the bag from Peter, patting him on the back carefully. Peter hated how everyone tip-toed around him. His past four months had been filled with people hugging him and trying their best to not crack him. He hated it. But he hated more so how he knew that if people didn’t do it, he would fall apart. 

Peter slid into the back seat with Morgan. She sat in the middle seat, pressed right up against his side. Happy was in front of him, and Peter felt his heart pang at the sight of his and May’s hands intertwined. For a split second he felt the ghost of hers. The way her hands were so soft, as she would run her thumb over the back of his hand. How he used to pick up her hand and kiss the back of it, then she’d smack his arm and tell him he was gross, but she would never pull away when he went to do it. 

“Petey!” He turned his head as Morgan was staring at him expectantly. “Look.” She said, and he glanced down. Morgan had been doodling in her journal, and she was waiting for confirmation that Peter loved it. He glanced at it for two seconds before tears were filling his eyes. 

It was a picture of him, sitting on the couch in the Stark’s home, a sad look on his face. Then, Morgan, Tony, Pepper, Happy, and May were sat around him, either hugging him, running their hands in his hair, or just laying a hand on his shoulder. “This is for you, Petey. It’s you being sad…” She paused, her young brain contemplating how to be gentle while not yet understanding the idea of being subtle. “But our family telling you that it’s okay.” Peter didn’t even try to stop the tears that began to pour from his eyes. In his subconscious, Peter knew May and Happy were being quiet, trying to see how he would respond. Peter leaned down, kissing the top of Morgan’s head and letting it rest there. 

“I love it, Mo.” He whispered. Letting himself close his eyes and be sad. He had tried for so long to hold his emotions in. To keep from crying or grieving in his families present, but he was done with that. He was safe, and he could let himself cry with them. 

“You can keep it.” She said quietly. 

Peter felt a hand rest on his knees, as he opened his eyes to find May staring at him with a sad comfort. He nodded once. And she turned back around, reaching to dial the radio up. 

And in one instant, Peter’s Christmas was flipped upside down. He felt the sharp spike of his spider-sense shoot up his neck. Peter wrapped his arms around Morgan, yelling, “HAPPY,”

Then he felt the crash. The girl pressed to his side screaming, metal crunching, glass shattering. A vehicle hit straight into the back left of the car. Peter could feel as the metal warped around his body, and the car spun around. Then his head made contact with something solid and everything blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovelies! Hugs and kisses to you for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please leave a kudo and a comment, they mean more than anything to me!


	3. (Living Nightmare) - Someone Wake Me Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is hereeeee! So, this chapter was one of the easier ones to write! I loved doing it and just seeing Peter being protective... has me feeling allllll the things! 
> 
> Forever shouting out @akillerqueenyouare and @seaweedbrain3000 for helping me so so so much! 
> 
> Warnings: the typical whump... speaking of injuries. Nothing major. 
> 
> Song: Wish That You Were Here x Florence + the Machine

Peter woke up to so much pain. Stabbing. Sharp. Stinging. His entire body yelling at him to stop. Stop moving or stop breathing, he didn’t care which. He could feel it, an overwhelming ache wrapping itself around the left side of his body. 

He let out a deep groan as he peeled his eyes open. He would have been content to lay still on the hard floor until he had fallen back asleep, but he heard a small sniff right next to him. It was just then that Peter realized that he had no clue where he was or who he was with. 

He forced himself to look around, his eyes searching for purchase in the dark. It was a process of elimination, as he tried to put the pieces together. He knew he wasn’t with Tony. Tony wouldn’t let him be sore like this, he wouldn’t be on a metal floor and in so much pain. 

It wasn’t until he moved his right arm that he realized the real issues. His heart rate spiked. A cold, metal cuff was clamped around his right arm. Peter grunted, reaching back until he found the wall. He winced as the pain in his left side screamed at him for moving. Peter put his feet on the ground and began to push himself back.

He stopped suddenly with a gasp. His entire lower back and side set on fire. White spots fell into his vision, and Peter let his head fall back against the ground. He heard the sniffle again, and he knew that he had been ignoring the most important part of this nightmare.

“Morgan?” His voice was scratchy and low, filled to the brim with every inch of pain he felt. He could hear it now, her racing heart rate and rapid breathing somewhere to his left. 

“Petey?” He could hear the tears in her voice, and he had so many more questions. How long had she been alone? Was she hurt? Who were they with?

“Hey, can you come to me, Mo?” He whispered, and he could hear her sliding around. His senses must have just been completely wasted away, because he didn’t realize how close she was to him until one of her limbs hit his ribcage. Peter grunted, and his head went limp against the ground as he waited for the pain to calm down, and the black spots to leave his vision.

‘Petey! Petey!” Morgan’s distraught voice cried as Peter hummed in acknowledgement. 

“Yeah-” He muttered breathlessly. “Yeah… I’m okay, just can you walk around my legs and to the other side?” He whispered, still trying to breathe through the pain that was crawling through his veins. 

“Ok.” Her voice was quiet, but he could tell that her vitals were falling back into place. He could feel her shuffling, thinking where exactly she wants to step as she walks to his other side. He reaches out his hand, fingers wrapping around Morgan’s arm. 

“Come on, I’ve got you right here.” He helped her lay down beside him and curled his arm tightly around her. 

“Are you alright, Mo?” He asked, running his arm over her head feeling for any bumps. 

“I’m okay. You held me when the car hit us.” She sounded completely fine, though her voice wavered with emotions. 

Peter nodded, the crashing of metal and the crunch of glass replaying in his head. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright. Has anyone been in here?” He asked, his right hand running through her hair as he tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. 

“Two men. They said you won’t be able to break the hand cuffs.” She seemed to think as Peter tried to gain a clear grasp of their surroundings. His eyes had adjusted to the dark now, not that there was much to see. It was a solid, rectangular room. There was a metal cot to the left, with one scruffy blanket and a paper-thin pillow. No windows, one light that wasn’t turned on, and two small air vents in the middle of the ceiling. There was a door, but no handle on the inside. Essentially, they were completely trapped. No exit. No way out. 

Peter still felt hot, his head holding the same sickly, cotton feeling it had had earlier. He needed to figure out how badly he was hurt, and why he was getting sick. 

“He also said they put something in the air.” She said, sleepily into his side. 

“What was that?” 

“They were being mean. The big man said that he put something in your backpack that made you feel gross and sleepy, and he put it in the air.” Peter blinked. That made sense, these men obviously knew who he was, and knew that on a normal day they couldn’t over power him. At this point, the effects of whatever drug were just a way to keep Peter from being able to function properly. 

“Do you feel sick at all, Mo?” He asked, because if this drug was affecting Morgan, he would go crazy on the men holding them both here. 

“No. I’m not hurt. You’re the one that’s sick.” He sighed in relief. This was something specifically designed for him. So that meant two things, they didn’t have it out for Morgan. That’s good. But they knew enough about Peter to make him extremely nervous. 

“You’re right. Hey, why don’t you try and get some sleep? I’ll be here when you wake up.” The room wasn’t hot or cold, and that was a small mercy that Peter was reveling in for now. Despite himself, Peter began to feel his mind shutting down. Whether it was the drugs or just the exhaustion from the injuries that had taken a hold of him, but within minutes of feeling Morgan’s breaths even out, his eyes were shut, and he was beginning to follow suit. 

___ 

Peter woke with a start at the bang of the door to their cell being blown open. Light flooded into the room, and Peter winced at the jabbing headache he felt form. He felt his heart pounding as he, despite the screaming pain in his side, forced himself to sit up, pulling Morgan behind his back. She was against him and the wall, her tiny fists gripping his sweatshirt tightly. He kept his left hand behind his back on her shoulder.

Three men walked in, and Peter automatically began to size them up. Two guys on either side of the boss. Both extraordinarily large, and gruff looking. Then the obvious leader… well Peter knew who he was immediately. And his blood ran cold. 

“Justin Hammer…” He whispered. Hammer, long and spindly – he looked like a sewer rat had been formed into a person. He had the look of a psychopath and Peter knew enough about his and Tony’s history to be scared of the outcome if Tony couldn’t find them quickly. 

“Ah, the kid knows- you know my name.” Hammer walked up to Peter, leaning down in front of the pained boy’s face. 

“Whatever you want, you can let Morgan go. You’ve got me, you don’t need her.” Hammer tilted his head, seeming to be contemplating what Peter had said.

“Right, yeah. I mean, honestly, Mr. Parker- I’m not one to normally care much about kids, but I need Tony. Tony cares most about his two kids. I could have just taken little miss Stark, sure. But I also wanted to get a little look at Spider-Man. And, if I want spider-man, I need a good reason for him not to ditch me the first second he gets. To be fair, I think the specialized drugs that we put into the AC are doing their job. You look awful.” Peter just furrowed his brows, heart racing at the idea of this man knowing who he was. 

“Just, don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything you want – just don’t touch her.” He said, his voice pleading, and he didn’t care if he sounded desperate. He was so utterly desperate it wasn’t even funny. 

“As long as you do what I ask, I promise the little princess remains unharmed.” And Peter released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“Okay- I swear.” Hammer just nodding along, as though he understood everything. 

“Okay, well – we are going to have to take you out and rough you up a bit. We have to send a threat to daddy Stark, and unless you look a little worse than you already do – well, I’m just afraid he may not believe us.”  
Peter took a deep breath, readying himself for the nightmares that were surely awaiting him.


	4. (Red Stains) - I Would Go Through Anything For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okayyy, so here is chapter 4! Thank you to each and every one of you that is reading! I have so much so loved writing this story... and there is sooooo much more to come! Buckle in guys! 
> 
> Warnings: General violence/torture ... but if you can't handle either of these things you probably don't want to read any of this work. 
> 
> Song: Run Boy Run x Woodkid

Peter was pulled from the room, a screaming Morgan being left behind, by the chains wrapped around his wrist. He didn’t fight. He could read the threats. He fights, and Morgan takes the brunt of it. He would never put her in that position. Peter used the opportunity of being pulled from his room to get a good look around. He was hoping to see outside the facility to try and figure out exactly where he was.

It was just his luck that there were no windows on the entire walk. He was led to a musty staircase and up one flight. The entire building was barely lit, more lightbulbs were broken than were on. The walls were a dark grey cinder-block coated in mold. Water seemed to be leaking down from busted pipes and creating murky puddles along the eroded ground.

“You guys could have at least given us a better place to stay? What is this, the motel 6 of hostage facilities?” Peter’s senses flared as big-baddie on the left threw an elbow straight into Peter’s jaw. He grunted and ducked his head, trying to calm the stars that threatened to steal his vision. 

To be completely honest, Peter was not thriving. Whatever had happened in the car accident – he felt like trash. The entirety of the left half of his body felt like a singular, giant bruise. His brain had taken enough rattling to last him a lifetime, and he was pretty sure that at least three of his fingers had been broken. Every step sent a stab of pain up his body, and he was fighting to keep his breath steady. 

The stairs were an act of torture in themselves. His head was slowly beginning to pound harder and harder, every movement he made added to the pressure in his skull. He just had to cooperate and maybe this wouldn’t be too awful. 

He had just managed to convince himself that this wasn’t going to be terrible when he made it to the top of the stairs. He felt his entire body falter as his feet seemed to cease working. 

The room was a torture chamber.

Literally. 

It was an entire cleared out floor, no walls splitting it up. But there were different sections spread throughout the rectangular room. Immediately in front of Peter was a metal surgical table with metal bars spread across it. He wouldn’t be able to move. Peter felt his hands beginning to sweat as the men holding him on either side let him take in the room with smirks on their faces. 

To his left was a large screen with a chair bolted into the ground. The chair had strange bindings, a terrifying mix between leather and metal that was intertwined to keep him from moving. But the most intimidating aspect of it was the head-piece sat on the chair. Peter was turned then to the right before he could really inspect the chair.   
To the right there were two separate and equally horrifying things. On the far wall was shelves and shelves of equipment. Equipment that Peter did and didn’t recognize. Equipment that would be used to make him scream and cry. Peter felt like throwing up just looking at it. And on the right was a camera set-up. It was on a stand in front of a black backdrop with another metal chair bolted into the ground set up. 

This was so much worse than he had anticipated that it was going to be. He hated to admit it, but he was completely terrified. He wanted the mask on his face. He wanted to be able to hide the wide eyes and set jaw. Every bone in his aching body screamed at him to GET OUT! Run, fight, dodge. Whatever it takes to put as much distance between this room and himself as possible. He wanted Tony. He wanted to be safe and protected from this. But he knew that Morgan was down the stairs. And he had no clue if he would be able to make it to her before the others did. It was not a risk Peter was willing to take. He would rather put himself through every ounce of pain that this room could hold before putting Morgan Stark in any sense of danger. 

Peter was led over to the chair in front of the camera. His body naturally began to resist the force being used to make him sit. His knees locking up and pushing against the hands holding him.

“I would quit fighting, Mr. Parker. Lest little miss Stark gets uncomfortable in her room.” Peter immediately went still. He let his body be pliable as he was forced to sit in the metal chair. Metal and leather cuffs were latched over his arms, shins, and neck. His body was completely immobilized, and Peter felt his claustrophobia beginning to rise up in his chest. All he could think about was the building being closed in on top of him, struggling to move as concrete was piled on top of him – suffocating him down. 

He took a deep breath, ignoring the twinge of pain in his side. He had to focus. He couldn’t lose his mind yet. He had to be able to control his brain right now. 

“Alright boys, rough him up a bit. I need to go make a phone call, ten minutes until film time.” Hammer said as he slid out of the room. He looked completely out of place in this dungy room. His suit perfectly pressed and not a hair was out of place on his head. Peter looked at the two men as they walked over to the stacks upon stacks of weapons and tools. 

He wanted to throw up. Peter flexed his hands as he leaned his head back. He could still feel the effects of the mist that Hammer had on a timer in his room. He felt hot and flustered all the time. His brain seemed to be sludge as he tried to figure out what was going on. 

He had been lost in his thoughts when the men stepped up beside him. Peter blinked up at them, and there was no hint of humanity in their eyes. 

Peter saw a set of brass knuckles on the taller man’s fist. The man’s punches would have hurt enough without the studded metal spread across his fist. The second man was holding a thin, glinting knife. Peter bit his lip as he stared straight ahead. 

“Open your mouth.” Brass knuckles said. Peter had missed the other object in his hands. It was a thick leather strap with a place for his chin underneath it. Peter obeyed, as Knuckles walked up to him. When he turned the strap Peter saw that it held a mouth piece. Unceremoniously, the piece was shoved into his mouth. The leather chin piece molding under his chin. The leather above his lip met right under his nose, and there would be no noise to come out of this. Knuckles put the strap through the buckle and yanked it tight enough that Peter grunted from the pain. It just doubled the pressure in his head. 

“Now we don’t have to hear you yelling.” Knife said as he placed the silver blade on Peter’s left arm. Peter closed his eyes as the blade was drawn down swiftly. The sharp sting raced across his nerves, but Peter just let out a quick breath. He peeled his eyes open just in time to see brass knuckles flying at his face. 

Peter thought of MJ. Of the fear she must have felt the entire time he was fighting the Goblin. He thought about her eyes, the golden-brown set against the soft brown of her smooth skin. He lost himself – disassociating from the pain as he dreamt of gripping onto her hand once again. 

___

When Hammer rolled back into the room with a clap, Peter’s head was hanging low, tugging against the strap on his neck. If he had been in pain before, this was something completely new. Had his ribs on the right side of his body not been broken before, they certainly were now. His face was numb, his nose oozing blood down the strap. His lip was definitely busted underneath the leather and he could feel the blood leaking down his neck out from under his gag.

Hammer stood in front of Peter as Knuckles and Knives cleaned themselves off behind the camera. Hammer inspected Peter, turning his head as he looked the boy up and down. Peter felt a hand under his chin, as his head was pulled up. His eyes met Hammer’s and he wanted nothing more than for this man to stop touching him. 

“This looks much better. I want Stark to know that I’m being very serious with my threats.” Hammer cleared his throat. “You know, I admire you, Peter. You could have resisted, could have gotten out in the beginning. But, you put yourself into a terrible place just to protect someone that Stark loves more than you. Were you scared? Scared that if you preserved yourself, then your rent-a-daddy might stop loving you? I mean, before little missy was brought into play, I think Stark needed a play-thing to be protective over. How different has it been since you got snapped back? How much less do you get invited over? How much time and effort does he put forth to Morgan compare to you? It’s probably not a bad thing if we just took you off his hands – I mean, he may even thank us to not have to worry about you anymore.” Then Hammer, whose eyes had been boring into Peter’s soul, turned away as though he hadn’t just been confirming Peter’s darkest thoughts. Peter tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. 

“Alright men, action time.” Hammer said. Peter wanted to sit up, to wipe the blood from his face as the red recording light flipped on. Peter’s head felt loose on his shoulders as it dipped and swayed. 

“Oh, hey Tony.” Hammer didn’t step into the view of the camera, just spoke from directly behind it as knuckles held a spotlight right in Peter’s eyes. He flinched away from the blazing light, the pain in his head growing as his senses went wild. It had been too long since he’d been in such bright lights that this was a straight attack on his senses. “It looks like I have something that belongs to you. Actually, you know what, I have two somethings that belong to you. Now, don’t you worry your pretty little head. Little Miss Stark is doing just fine. In fact, your rent-a-son decided to do whatever he needs to keep Little Miss pristine and untouched. Maybe that’s why you’ve kept this mutant around. I guess it’s a great way for you to make sure that no one harms your daughter.” Hammer hummed from behind the camera. “If I’m being honest though, I kind of expected him to be a bit more resilient. I mean, a few meetings with a knife and some brass knuckles, and look at him - he can’t even keep his head up!” Hammer teased. “Anyways, Stark, I’m going to keep these two to myself for a little bit, and you’ll get another message from me soon enough. You don’t have to worry about your daughter. She’s just fine, and will remain that way as long as the bug remains agreeable.” Peter felt tears pooling in his eyes. Every inch of this responsibility was resting on his shoulders and he absolutely hated it. He wasn’t strong enough. But he had to be. There wasn’t a choice. “Don’t wait up, Stark.” And the blinking light stilled.   
___

Peter was dropped unceremoniously into his and Morgan’s cell. He grunted at the pain as he tried his best to hide the tears racing down his face. The shackles on his arms had been replaced with a thick metal band that was wrapped around his neck. The chain, thick and heavy, had been latched onto the wall behind him. They had left the gag on him, and he wanted nothing more than to take it off. Hammer, right before departing, had said that if Peter so much as laid a hand on the strap Morgan would be the next to have one. The threat had done its job, so Peter just tugged the girl up against his side, wrapping a steady arm around her as she cried. He rubbed comforting circles into the girl’s back, leaning his head against the cinder block as he did his best to keep from letting his cries jostle the sleeping girl too much. He watched as the blood from the cuts spread and dropped onto his white shirt. Red stains to stick with him. Never letting him forget his first wretched day in that hell-hole.


	5. (Intruder) - Don't Touch Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5!! Yay! So I just finished writing chapter 11... and guys you just - you aren't ready! Buttt, here is this chapter, I hope you all enjoy it! Writing this one was hard, I felt so stuck on it the whole time. But, I got through it with the help of my dear friends (who I will never stop shouting out) akillerqueenyouare and seaweedbrain3000! 
> 
> Warnings: None that I can think of! Enjoy! 
> 
> Song: Saving Grace x The Head and the Heart

Peter waited until Morgan was completely asleep before he let himself break. Tears poured from his eyes as he ducked his head. His entire body shook with sobs. The more he wept, the more pain it caused, but he couldn’t stop. 

Every thought that consumed him was dark. He thought of May and Happy. He had no clue if they were okay. He knew the car that hit them had come straight into him, and if Morgan had remained unharmed, he could only wish the same for Happy and May. He knew Tony would be absolutely losing his mind. Peter got kidnapped often enough – but this was different. Hammer had taken the most innocent thing from Tony. And sure, Peter had done everything possible to keep her safe, but he knew that this was still the worst-case scenario for Mr. Stark. He resonated with himself to make sure that no harm came to Morgan. That not a hair on her head was touched for the entire time that the two of them would be here together. 

Against his willpower, Peter felt his eyelids slowly drifting shut as his brain struggled to think of a possible escape. He blinked once, not realizing that his eyes didn’t open again. 

He was awoken to an ear-shattering clang. He jerked forward, arms assuming their position around Morgan’s body. He could hear her whimpering, but he just ignored it. Peter’s brown eyes hardening as they caught sight of Hammer, snide and proud. 

Morgan was tucking her head into Peter’s tattered and bloodstained shirt, refusing to look out of the safety of her position. Hammer just stood in the doorway cleaning his glasses, before tucking them back on his face and grinning. 

“Mr. Parker! How good to see you awake! I have been so excited to get to know you better! I mean, any stray that Stark picks up off the street must be at least a little bit interesting. Or maybe he just felt so bad for you that he couldn’t get past his conscience.” Hammer clapped his hands together, stinging Peter’s ears. “Any-who, I just wanted to give you a bit of a head’s up about this thing.” At that moment Hammer’s two goons came into the room. One holding a gun, the other holding a small, open bracelet. 

“Step away from the little Stark, Peter.” Hammer said calmly. Peter’s entire body began to shake with fear. 

Peter grunted against the leather, shaking his head. Hammer just huffed in annoyance, sounding more like someone had cut him off in traffic than someone that was holding two children hostage. 

“Shoot the girl in the knee.” Hammer said passively. And Peter shot to his feet, completely ignoring every blinding inch of pain in his body.

“NO! NO! NO!” Peter yelled, though the words were completely muffled by the gag. He shook his hand, sliding as far away from Morgan as the chain would allow. The young Stark began to wiggle against the wall, tears welling in her eyes as one of the men drew closer to her. Every inch of Peter’s aching body begged to race toe where she was and put as much distance between her and that man as she possibly could. Morgan found his eyes, and he could see that she wanted to run as she tucked her arms up into her chest. 

Peter held his hands placatingly to Morgan. She stared at him with wide, horrified eyes. It was so hard to communicate with her without speaking, but thankfully she was smart like her dad. Morgan nodded, her dark eyes completely filled with trust as she held out her dainty wrist to the man. He took the metal band, about as wide as a watch, and latch it, locking it with a thin key. Morgan pulled her left arm back to her chest as she shrunk down into the corner. The two men walked out of the room and Peter fell back at Morgan’s side as he wrapped his arms around her. 

He pulled her head to his chest, ignoring the screaming pain that it caused as he hummed quietly, letting the vibrations of his chest comfort the young girl. She had burrowed herself into Peter’s arms and he ignored the punch in his ribs as she did. Anything for Morgan. Absolutely anything. 

Hammer cleared his throat then, staring at the two of them, something dangerous alight in his eyes. “Mr. Parker, as you can see, Ms. Stark has a new bracelet. Now, this is a piece I have spent quite a long time perfecting. See, it has a needle and vial of a concoction that I personally made tucked inside it. The milliliter that is in it- well, it has stopped an elephant’s heartbeat in a matter of ten seconds. I’d – well I would hate to see how quickly it could stop the little princess’s heart.” Peter wrapped his arms tighter around Morgan, his eyes catching onto the glinting silver of the device. “Now, don’t worry. I really have no intentions to harm her. I just need to make sure that you understand how serious I am about you not causing any funny business. No secret messages to Tony, no trying to break out. I know you’re a genius, I’d be an idiot to assume that Stark would let you be around his family if you weren’t. But cruelty trumps genius any day. And I hold no lack of both. Don’t test me, and she will be fine. I’ll leave you for the rest of the day. Your rations will be by in a couple of hours.” Hammer slipped out of the room the heavy metal door clanging shut in a deafening statement behind him. 

Needing to see that she was alright, Peter tapped the little girl on her shoulder. Morgan shook her head, digging herself deeper into his side. Peter wanted nothing more than to be able to talk, but the damn leather mouth-piece had completely cut out that option. Morgan unfolded from him, tears rolling down her cheeks as Peter 

“I want daddy.” She cried, and Peter felt a wave of renewed anger. 

Peter just hummed again, doing everything he could to comfort her without the use of words. Morgan, seeming to grasp the graveness of the situation just hugged into him again.

He began to run his hands through her hair once more, allowing the adrenaline to wear off. He felt the pain anew, but he could tell he was healing a bit. He needed to eat, but Hammer had said something about rations. If he ate just a little bit he knew his healing would pick up speed quickly. He just had to wait. Peter leaned his head against the wall, staring at the cracks on the ceiling. 

“God, Tony please hurry.” He thought, staring helplessly at the cinder-block walls.


	6. (Fire) - In My Veins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 6! Sorry that I am posting it a bit late! But I was dead on my feet last night so I crashed before 12! But here is the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Warnings: no major warnings
> 
> Song: I Can Feel a Hot One x Manchester Orchestra

Peter was pulled from the room just as someone was bringing a sandwich and water to Morgan. He could smell it, his stomach stabbing in pain as the scent hit his nose. He could already feel that his healing factor had slowed down drastically. By Peter’s best estimation, it had been roughly three days since they had been taken. His entire body felt like it was being weighed down. 

Knuckles was pulling him along, essentially carrying him up the stairs to the torture room. Peter felt like breaking down, he wanted to curl into a ball and be held by Tony while he wept. He just wanted to feel safe, but the way that his spider-senses erupted as he was brought into the room had him feeling anything but. Hammer was waiting for him, staring at a needle he was inspecting. 

Peter was led straight over to the chair he had been held in previously and strapped back down. Knives was nowhere to be found. Knuckles stepped back, and Hammer just looked up, glancing from Peter to Knuckles.

“What did I - I told you to take off the,” Hammer huffed, dropping his head into his hands. “I pay you enough for you to listen to instructions - take off the muzzle.” Peter disliked that he called it a muzzle like Peter was a rabid animal that needed to be tamed.   
Knuckles stepped up, pulling the piece from Peter’s mouth. Peter grunted against the discomfort. He opened his mouth slowly against the stabbing pain he felt. He wanted nothing more than to scream and yell at Hammer, but the bracelet on Morgan’s wrist was enough to keep him from making a noise.   
Hammer clicked the button on the camera, before turning and walking over to a table across the room from Peter. Hammer had a needle and a dark vial of liquid held in his hands, and Peter began to lean back in the restraints. He felt his heart rate pick up as he watched Hammer get closer, plunging the needle into the cap of the vial.   
Peter felt his breaths shortening, as he pulled as much as he could as he leaned back. Whatever this was… the joy that lay across Hammer’s face had Peter beginning to sweat. Whatever was going to happen - Peter knew it was not good. 

“I keep saying, Mr. Parker, that this isn’t personal. In all reality, you have been a wonderful prisoner. So compliant.” Hammer said, knocking air bubbles from the syringe. He approached Peter, pushing the teens head to the side and pressing the needle into the muscle. Peter winced, holding his breath at the jab. He felt the immediate flare of drugs - like ice running through his veins. 

“Now, Mr. Stark, I would imagine that the Spiderling here might be a bit concerned as to what I just injected him with. Now, this is a - mostly - nonlethal chemical mixture that I threw together. When I have tested it out previously, it has felt as though fire is coursing through one’s veins. Now, for Mr. Parker, I upped the injection a bit. It should wear off in about thirty minutes. It should be kicking in, any time now.” Hammer said, as he leaned against a chair he had sat behind the camera. 

Peter took a deep breath, trying to gage a different feeling. He wasn’t feeling anything - no. Wait. 

Peter gasped, his head falling forward. It was ice in his veins, so hot that he felt cold. He felt it starting at his neck and it began to flow down. Each pump of his heart carrying the drug farther in his body. Peter began to gasp. 

He had burned himself plenty of times. Between fires, ovens, and candles Peter knew what it was to burn your arm or hand. It had never been too bad though. His super healing had always healed him up rather quickly. After one particularly bad bought in a collapsing building, Mr. Stark had created a serum that had not only soothed the burning pain, but almost immediately made the burned flesh painless. 

Peter could only dream of that at this moment. He could feel flames licking at his entire body. Red-hot pokers stabbing at every single cell, burning him from the inside out. Peter jerked against the restraints – the poison being wafted into his room and days of malnutrition keeping him from breaking out of the chair. He had been holding back the screams, gasping for air around the pain that encompassed him.

But, like a light - switch being flipped – the pain seemed to hit another level. In Western Civilization class, Peter had heard of the Christian martyrs in Europe that had been dunked into vats of oil and lit on fire. He felt as though he were right alongside them. Burning – unable to resist. Lit on fire as the oil had it clinging to his skin.   
Peter screamed. He didn’t know if he actually made any noise. All of the pain drowned out the noise around him as his body shook. He arched his back, unable to get it more than an inch off the chair. He needed OUT. Peter needed out – he had to get away – he needed help! 

“PLE-PLEASE!” He screamed – he thinks he screamed. He felt something damp on his entire body, his hands clammy and hot. He was so hot. He wanted to jump into an ice bath. He wanted to drown in the Atlantic ocean, if he could just never feel a pain like this again. 

Time was weird. All he knew was the pain. He couldn’t remember if his eyes were open or not. Peter had no clue if Hammer was in the room – he knows he heard voices at some point during the pain – but maybe it was his imagination. He had receded into himself. Peter imagined Tony, oh if only Mr. Stark were there. He would know exactly what to do in this situation. If just Mr. Stark would swoop in, throw some iced water onto Peter and take them home. Lights faded in and out, the pain never failing to remain overwhelming.   
Then it all just stopped. 

Peter just breathed. Deep – lung-rattling breaths. His hand shaking in their restraints. He felt moisture on his face, and he heard his breaths hiccupping. He needed Tony. He wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t Atlas – the weight of this was going to crush him. He wanted Hammer to kill him. How much easier this would be. 

Brown eyes. He thought of those terrified brown eyes. Of Morgan Stark, probably crying in the room downstairs. His one respite from all of this. And he knew that he would swim seven oceans to know she was okay. He would accept fire in his veins day after wretched day if that little girl remained unharmed. Not because he was Spider-Man, or what the world called a hero, but because she was family to him. She reminded him so much of her. The dark hair, and dark eyes. Blunt words that hid the kindest of souls. And he had let her down, and if he could live in the pain that losing her had caused him then he could live through the fire in his veins a thousand times over. Because nothing could ever hurt as much as the knowledge that you killed the love of your life. 

“I think he is waking up, Stark.” Then, the relief he had been begging for, ice water hit Peter’s face as he jerked forwards, gasping. The coolness of the liquid did nothing to cool the fire that was slowly fading from his veins. But he was awake now, and he could see the red-light still blinking. Peter blinked. He had no clue how long he had been in that dark place. He had no clue how much longer he could have handled, but now, sitting in that chair, he wanted nothing more than go back there. He knew Tony would see this. See how weak Peter was. He would wish that he had never met Peter, because Morgan wouldn’t be here if he had been out of the picture. Tony would hate him forever and Peter couldn’t even blame him. “He doesn’t look to be in much of a place to talk. Hm. You know what, he did so good, I’ll give him a night without the muzzle. I guess I should let him eat something if I don’t want him to die on me. And I have too many plans for this kid for him to just die on me right now. Adios, Stark. Still no demands. We will contact you soon enough.” 

The light shut off and Peter was carried away.


	7. (Leather Bound Wrists) - Keep You Safe & Warm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so - this chapter is a bit shorter, but you guys are going to get I guess what I would consider some fluff? (There isn't much of this to be found in my Febuwhump so savor it!) I hope you are all enjoying this, I want you all to know that your comments literally mean so so so much to me! Thank you all for your continued support!
> 
> Always thankful to my beautiful Beta readers @seaweedbrain3000 & @akillerqueenyouare
> 
> Warnings: None
> 
> Song: Already Gone x Sleeping at Last

Peter had been given a break, for what he guessed to be a night. Every ounce of his energy had been drained when he was bound back in the room. Morgan had immediately come up to him, cuddling into his uninjured side. Knives had brought in two plates. Both held ham sandwiches and a potato. He also brought in two fairly large glasses of water and another blanket. Peter had never been more grateful for supplies in his life. 

They had, thankfully, decided to leave the gag off him for tonight. Peter could feel where it had been rubbing his chin and the back of his head raw. He was bound by his wrists, but it left enough room for him to lay down and eat comfortably. 

He and Morgan dug into the food, and Peter found it gone before he could believe. It had been portion sizes fit for a girl Morgan’s size, not a genetically mutated Spider with a metabolism to out-do Steve Rogers’. But it was better than nothing, and Peter wouldn’t be caught dead complaining. 

As the two of them ate Peter took inventory. Morgan was still unharmed. Her arm and forehead held a few bruises, but she wasn’t bleeding or sick. She was dirty, and her dark brown curls could definitely use a wash, but she was unharmed. She had been getting fed twice a day. Hammer didn’t have to worry about Morgan being at full strength like he did Peter. This was the first Peter had eaten since… well since this ordeal had begun. And he felt ravenous. 

He himself… well – Peter was worse for the wear. He started at the top of his body and went down. He definitely had a minor concussion. His head never failing to beat with pain and his eyes were incredibly hard to focus. He could feel blood in his hair. His nose was broken, and Peter just knew he had some nasty cuts and bruises scattering his face. His neck was relatively unharmed, sure it was stiff and sore but it wasn’t broken, cut, or bruised. His shoulders and arms weren’t too bad. The cuts from Knives had finally almost cleared themselves up. There were still thin white lines littering his arms, but no longer did he look like he had been on the retrieving end of a tiger’s playtime. His wrists were bruised and rubbed raw, but not broken or bleeding. 

Peter’s chest and abdomen… well they were a wreck. He had definitely broken a couple of ribs on his left side, and the rest of his chest was adamantly bruised. Every breath, every shift of a muscle alerted him to the fact that he was hurt. Thankfully, he couldn’t detect any internal bleeding, so that was a plus. For now, his lower body remained the most uninjured. Bruises and scrapes scattered around here and there, and his ankles were rather blistered from the cuffs, but at least nothing was broken.

As far as inventory went, their room was fairly low. The men had blessed Peter and Morgan with a lamp. It lit up the room enough for the two to see one another. If either of them had to use the restroom they were taken to a singular room that locked on the outside. No showers, no mirrors. Just a singular, metal toilet. Peter could of used any of the various objects around the two of them to kill the men. But he didn’t know what Hammer’s reaction time was, and every time the silver bracelet on Morgan’s wrist glinted off the light of the lamp, Peter was reminded of the fact that he would do absolutely nothing to risk her well-being. They had a small, metal cot that the two slept on, a pillow, and now two blankets. Peter had even managed to convince Hammer to bring Morgan crayons and a pack of copy paper. The poor girl was left alone for the vast majority of the long days, and Peter didn’t want her to go insane. 

After they finished their meal and had each used the restroom, Peter managed to limp over to the cot. He laid down, folding the pillow under his head as he opened his arm for Morgan. She ducked under the chain that hung from the wall, tucking herself under the blankets and up against Peter’s side. Her head rested on his right shoulder as he snuggled the blankets tightly around them before reaching out and clicking off the lamp.

Peter was resigned to go straight to sleep, thankful for the relatively full stomach and the added warmth, when he heard a quiet sniffle. 

“What’s wrong, Mo?” A stupid question, sure. But Morgan had been the strong one. Her every move one of resolve and determination. And she was just now letting her guard down, and Peter sure as Hell was not going to let her cry uncomforted.

“I just- I miss mommy and daddy.” Peter felt tears pricking his own eyes. 

“I know. I know, kiddo. I do too. But, Dad is going to be here so soon. He would never leave us here. He’s looking for us right now. I bet he even called the Avengers in.” Morgan perked up at that.

“Really?” She asked, quiet excitement leaking into her voice. 

“Oh yeah. Aunt Nat, and Uncle Clint. Bruce, and Uncle Steve. I bet even Uncle Steve’s scary friend. Wanda, and you know what- I just know he called in Thor and T’Challa. He is doing everything in his power to get us back right this second.”

And as Peter told Morgan of all of the things that Tony would do for them, he managed to comfort himself. Tony would, he would be doing every single thing that he could in order to get to Morgan. Peter would not doubt that for a second, he just wishes Tony would still take Peter after Peter got Morgan kidnapped. He would understand even if he didn’t, Peter would understand. 

Morgan had drifted off to sleep at some point during Peter’s muttering, and he quickly found himself following suit.


	8. (Dark State of Mind) - Without You I Don't Feel at Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is ready to hear from our dear love, Tony Stark?? It is finalllyyyy time for a Tony Stark interlude! It has been so so hard for me to write so much a fic with little to none of Tony so far, but here it is! My biggest thing with this fic, is that we aren't going to have much coming straight from Tony's POV, but we will be getting a little bit from him! Tony and the rest of the Avenger crew come into this fic big time! 
> 
> I have been so blown away by the support for this fic! Thank you all so much! I have LOVED writing this story, and doing an interconnected story has been a blast! I can't wait for your reactions as we continue going forth!
> 
> Warnings: Grief & Anxiety 
> 
> Song: That Home x The Cinematic Orchestra

It had been six days and Tony felt like he could erupt at any given moment. Every second of these past few days had him wanting nothing more than to rip Justin Hammer limb from limb after hugging both of his kids for two weeks straight. His heart had never felt anxiety like this. He knew that Morgan was safe right now. Hammer had said as much, that Mo was only there as insurance to keep Peter in line. Tony knew that as long as it was up to Peter, not a hair would be touched on his daughter’s head. That was what concerned him. Peter Parker, guilt trip extraordinaire, would let Hammer do absolutely anything he wanted to him. 

Tony had thrown up uncontrollably during the two videos that Hammer had sent. The first had seen Peter, immobilized and gagged as he was tied to a chair. The kid looked horrible. Worse than horrible. His face was bloodied and bruised. The gag didn’t offer his kid a chance to speak. 

Despite the multiple cuts on the kid’s arms, Tony’s biggest worry had been the kid’s eyes. He looked like he… wasn’t there. There was a complete disconnect in the kid’s eyes. His cheeks were flushed and he looked drugged to his eyelids. Hammer had rambled on and on about how much Tony must hate Peter, but Tony hadn’t wanted anything more than to wrap his kid tightly in his arms and hold him until he was okay again. 

If the first video wasn’t bad enough, Tony had collapsed to his knees when Hammer had injected Peter with whatever was in the bottle. He had felt so sick, watching the kid’s entire body seizing and shaking as he emitted a sound that Tony prays he would never have to hear again. 

Tony hated Hammer. He hated Justin Hammer more than he had hated anyone else in his entire life. He wanted to do everything to Hammer that Hammer had done to Peter and more. Tony was having such intrusive thoughts that he wouldn’t dare to speak them to anyone. 

It had been two days since the last video email had been sent to him when Rhodey had walked into the lab. He had taken one look at Tony and his entire mood fell. Rhodes walked over to where his friend was sat, staring listlessly at the first video that Hammer had sent, and told Friday to turn the video off.

“Tones, you have to take a break. Natasha, Barnes, and Rogers are on this for today. You need to shower, eat, and sleep. We can come back tomorrow.” Tony just shook his head. He didn’t know when he had last eaten… or slept for that matter. But, until his kids were safely tucked in his arms, none of it mattered to him. Tony was stuck staring at the computer screen until Rhodey knelt right in front of his office chair. His best friend’s eyes are concerned like Tony had never seen them before. A warm hand was laid on Tony’s arm.

“Tony, I need you to take a break.” Tony, head pounding, nodded softly. 

“I don’t know how.” He whispered, a sob catching in his throat as he dropped forward, collapsing into his friend’s arms. 

“I know. I know, I’ve got you. We will get them back. Justin isn’t a genius Tony, and he can’t hide forever.” Tony nodded, knowing just how true this was. Hammer was no genius, but he was driven by wrath wrapped neatly in a suit and tie. And as long as Peter and Morgan were being held in an undisclosed location, Tony would be terrified. 

“How much more can he take?” Tony asked to no one as Rhodey pulled him to his feet. Tony would have stumbled forward if not for the sturdy arms holding him up. Rhodey had been holding him up for his entire life. “He would give his life for Morgan, but I don’t know how much more he can take.” Tony whispered. 

“We will get them back, okay? Come on, you need a shower, you smell worse than Barton after he goes on a run.” 

By the time Tony had showered and eaten, Pepper had come home from her day of meetings. She had taken one look between Tony and Rhodes, and took her husband by the arm. Wrapping his arm around her waist she smiled sadly. 

“Why don’t we go sleep, huh?” Pepper whispered quietly into Tony’s ear. He loved her. He loved her with every inch of his being. Tony nodded, words not coming to him. He followed her - he would follow her for the rest of his life - to their room, brushing his teeth before collapsing into the bed beside her. 

He tried to hold it in. He did everything he could to keep from crying as Pepper walked from the bathroom, hair still wrapped in a towel from her shower. But when she had tucked herself into the blankets beside him, wrapping her arms around his chest, all of his self control fell to pieces. One sob was ripped from his chest.

“Oh, honey -” Pepper whispered, sitting up enough to pull Tony’s head against her chest, running her lithe fingers through his clean locks as she hushed him. “We will get them. Not only do we have every Avenger ever working to find them, but we have SHIELD agents doing everything in their power. It won’t be long now.” She held Tony until his cries turned into quiet snores before she folded herself into his arms, a tear slipping from her eye as she calmed herself enough to sleep.


	9. (Lose You) - To Let You Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh-kayyyy ladies and gents! Here is the beginning of a new part of this story! We see poor Pete getting a horrible ultimatum from the hated Justin Hammer, so be ready! 
> 
> Thank you all so so so much for your support, wow I am blown away! <3 
> 
> Warnings: No specific warnings
> 
> Song: Home x Gabrielle Aplin

Peter just wanted to have a break. He was done. He wanted to be done. He wanted to never be spoken to again, for the rest of his life. He wanted to sleep and not be disturbed. He was almost to the point of just wanting Hammer to push him too far. For his body to be unable to handle the pain anymore. 

And just as his mind had begun to think those dark thoughts, Morgan would shift against his side, her tiny hand wrapping itself firmly in his. Peter’s greatest relief in this entire experience from hell was that Morgan had remained unharmed. Even the bruising she had gained from the car accident had faded into a faint purple, almost unnotice-able even to Peter’s enhanced senses. She had remained quite vigilant in this time. Only having broken down once or twice. She had drawn and drawn, then began writing a story. It was an epic tale about Iron Man and Thor (she had an obsession with the god of Thunder) saving Peter and herself. Peter had smiled while reading it, happy to see that she was putting her time to good use.

Whenever he would be brought into their cell at the end of a hard day, she would make sure he laid gently on the cot and give him whatever water she had successfully hidden in the room. She had tried saving her food for him once, but the guards had burst into the room, anger and rage obvious in their voices. Peter had placated them, telling them he wouldn’t touch it. They didn’t seem to mind when she shared her water. 

He had racked his brain over and over again to find a solution. A way to escape, but he couldn’t take any chances. Tony had always told him that if this ever happened, just to hold tight. If he saw an opportunity, take it but lay low. Don’t cause disturbance, don’t make it worse on yourself. Peter was doing everything he could, but Hammer was psychotic. He wanted nothing more than to hurt Tony, and to hurt Tony Stark you had to hurt someone that he loved. Or in this case, two someones. Because even though Morgan wasn’t physically harmed, this would be imprinted on her mind forever. She would never forget being trapped with Peter who was growing more and more incoherent and ill. The images that she had seen, the blood and bruises and pain… these were things that she would never forget. Ever. And Peter hated himself for it. 

He wanted to be strong for her, but like when he was in the middle of the ferry as it was split in half, he couldn’t hold on to everything that was weighing him down. He couldn’t keep it all together. His arms were being stretched. Pain that started in his shoulders and ached all the way in his spine. He would never be able to do this alone. He needed Tony. Last time he had been so sure. Sure that he could hold it by himself. Sure that he could fix it. But now, as he lay on this bed waiting for this morning light to turn on, he knew that this wouldn’t be something he could do alone. 

When Hammer arrived the next morning, something was different. He had walked in alone, holding the small remote to Morgan’s bracelet. Peter’s spider-sense was going absolutely wild as his hands shook. He tucked Morgan behind him, sitting against the wall on the bed. The young Stark was hiding under the blankets as best she could. 

Hammer just leaned against the wall, watching the two of them in silence. Just as Peter thought he was going insane and imagining the man standing there, Hammer cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. 

“Mr. Parker. It has come to my attention that Miss Stark is no longer needed in this… revenge act.” Peter felt every hair on his body stand up, his heart having been electrified as Hammer ran his fingers over the button on the remote, but he said nothing. In kidnapping situations, when someone became useless, they were removed from the situation. Violently. He couldn’t let that happen. Hammer let Peter revel in his fear before pushing himself up off the wall. “But, I don’t want to kill her. I will if I have to - but I don’t really want to. I’m not a monster.” Hammer said before throwing his head back in laughter. 

“Here is the thing - I love ultimatums. So, Spider-Man, you get to decide. Option one, Miss Stark stays here with us. She remains unharmed, and you get two days off, a full day of meals and even showers in private quarters. New clothes, and fresh accommodations.” Peter gulped. This sounded like something he would give up anything for. “But, you have to make a video explaining to dear Mr. Stark that you were the reason his daughter remained in captivity. You chose materials over the freedom of his only child. The child that he loves the most.” Hammer pauses, letting this sink in. Peter knows, he knows that the next offer will be what he has to choose, no matter how much he would kill for the first. “The second option sees us sending the Princess back home. Alive, well, and unharmed. You will even get a video from Tony and her together, letting you know that she made it back.” He knew that he would choose this. “But, you will be put through… well let’s just say one of my men can be very creative with his torture methods. It will be the worst twenty-four hours of your life. Then you will get a two day break. No new accommodations. You’ll get your one meal and your water. That is all.” Hammer smirked, the knowledge that either one would break Peter at the forefront of his mind. “You have an hour to decide.” He said before stalking out of the room, a smirk plastered on his arrogant face. 

Peter sat, his heart pounding in his chest as Morgan tucked herself into his side. Selfishly, he desperately wanted her to stay with him. Not only for the break that his damaged body so desperately needed, or the food that his stomach was dying for, but for the fact that he didn’t know if he could do this alone. He needed to have someone to hold on to, some silver lining on the clouds of this nightmare, and that was Morgan. He didn’t know how he would breathe without her. Tony would hate him. More than he already did. He would think that Peter was disgustingly selfish. He would never save Peter if he did this. 

He would let her go. He would get to see Tony’s face, hear Tony’s voice, relish in the knowledge that Morgan was safe in her father’s arms. He would hope and pray that Tony would continue his search. He feared he might not live long enough to find out. That his body would choose to let go when he stopped having something to hold on for. At this point, he was begging for any type of relief that he might get. 

The hour passed so quickly. Peter asked Morgan about her drawings while not listening to a single explanation that she gave. She hadn’t understood what Hammer had said, and Peter couldn’t bring himself to think about it without feeling like dying. Morgan went on and on as Peter let himself curl around her, begging her to not leave him while knowing that he would do anything for her to get to go home. 

When Hammer walked back in the room, Peter’s hands shook so violently that the chains rattled. He was exhausted. Not the tired that came from the pain or physical torture he had recieved. It was a bone deep, soul-grinding tired that he feared would never leave his body. 

“Well, Mr. Parker, what was your consensus?” He waited, knowing this would be the hardest decision that Peter had ever had to make. 

“Take her home.” He whispered, his voice broken and exhausted. 

“What was that, sorry - I just couldn’t seem to hear you.” Peter felt his chin wobble as he looked down. 

“Take her to her dad. That’s my decision.” Hammer took a step forward.

“You have… resigned yourself to a torture that you have not experienced yet in your life. No relief, no breaks. A torture that will leave you begging to die… are you certain this is the choice you are wanting to make?” A tear did come then. Peter felt it drop onto his arm. He nodded twice, gripping at Morgan. 

“I’ll arrange for everything in the morning. Enjoy your last night together.” The door slammed shut with a brutal finality.


	10. (Farewell Forever) - If You Love Something, Let It Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update guys! I fell asleep at 6pm last night! I have no clue how, I guess I was just that tired! Anywho, I really hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Warnings: none :) 
> 
> Song: When You Can't Sleep at Night x Of Mice & Men

Peter had watched as Morgan grabbed the rations the soldiers had brought in. She set the tray down, and the two of them began to eat. Peter bit into the sandwich, his stomach growling as he tried to think of something to tell Morgan. He had the idea to write a note to Tony, but he knew that they had cameras in the room, and Peter hadn’t touched a single crayon this whole time. But, the cameras, as far as he could tell, didn’t have microphones. He could get a written message to Tony if he told Morgan what to write.

After dinner, Peter whispered quietly to Morgan, encouraging her to start drawing. She nodded. Morgan, after grabbing her crayons and sitting on the bed, looked at Peter expectantly. 

“Okay, Mo. I’m going to tell you what to do, and I want you to do it without making it look like I’m telling you to do anything, got it?” He asked, turning his head as he would at any normal point. 

“Okay, Petey.” She paused, doodling the sun in the corner of the paper. 

“You get to go see Dad and Mom in the morning, okay?” Morgan perked up at that as she stopped drawing. “I want you to draw two lady bugs, then leave a space okay.” Morgan nodded, doing as he asked. “Now one lady bug, a caterpillar, then two rolly-pollys.” Morgan obliged, doodling out the little critters on the grass that she had scribbled.   
“Below them I want you to draw a centipede and two worms all in a line, then leave a space. Okay, next -” Peter continued to instruct Morgan on the types of bugs to draw. When she was done he stared at the paper, taking a deep breath. The code didn’t mean anything drastic, to be honest, Peter had no important information to give. But, Tony needed to hear how much Peter loved him. No matter what the future held, he was eternally grateful to his mentor. 

After Morgan finished her drawing Peter clicked off the lamp, tucking her up against himself one last time. He felt tears burning his eyes. He could barely do this when he had a good reason to last. He had absolutely no clue how he was supposed to manage this hell-hole by himself. 

“What time do we get to go home?” Morgan whispered as she ran her fingers through Peter’s curls. He had fallen asleep every night here to those warm fingers in his hair. 

“You get to go home in the morning, Mo. But, I’m going to stay here.” He felt his breath catching as Morgan looked up at him, confusion written across her face.

"I don't want you to stay here!" She cried, tears welling in her eyes. 

"I know. I know you don't, but I'll be back soon, okay? Dad will come get me." Peter whispered as he comforted the young girl. His heart screaming that he didn’t want her to leave him! He wanted to go with her! But it wasn’t the time for that. Morgan settled into him, her dark eyes closing as she fell deep into sleep. Peter kept his arms woven tightly around her, soaking in every last second that he had with her. 

Eventually, against his will, Peter fell into a light sleep.   
___

When Peter woke up, he felt something in his heart break in half. His arms were empty. Peter jerked into a sitting position, despite the pain in his entire body. Peter jerked his head around the room, searching every achingly empty corner. He forced himself to his feet, his right arm being caught in the manacle that had him trapped against the wall.

“Hammer! Hammer! Where is she? Where is she?!” He screamed, like a wild animal. He began to fight against the chain. Wrapping his freed hand around the restrained wrist and pulling with all his might. He could feel the chains beginning to stretch when the door banged open. 

Peter paused, looking at Hammer and Knives. Justin looked at Peter with bitter amusement, before taking a deep breath.

“You really ought to calm down Mister Parker. We took the Princess to her father this morning. Here is the video for you. We didn’t need you getting any crazy ideas, so we let out a little more of our ‘spidey-gas’ to keep you asleep while we took the young one home.” Hammer nodded at Knives who pressed the spacebar on the laptop he was holding. A video clip showed Morgan, tied in a warehouse as Tony raced into the room, wrapping the girl tightly into his arms as he sobbed. Knives clicked off the video as Tony turned towards the camera, shutting the laptop. “See, Miss Parker is safe.” Hammer then began to look down, examining his hand as though Peter were the least interesting thing he had seen in his life. 

Peter, uncaring of the fact that Hammer was in the room with him, let out a choked sob - dropping his chin to his chest. She was safe. She was SAFE. Hammer could - and would - do whatever he wanted to Peter, but as long as Morgan was safely in her parent’s arms Peter wouldn’t care. Then he felt a spark of indignation rise through his spine. Without Morgan here, holding him back, Peter could do whatever he wanted to Hammer. 

Peter began to rip at the chain in the wall - noting that due to his injuries and sickness from the gas created for him, his strength was failing him - and beginning to scream at Hammer. 

“YOU’RE CRAZY! TONY IS GOING TO KILL YOU! YOU’RE CRAZY!” He screamed and screamed, not caring that Hammer was looking at Peter with disgust and contempt. Peter raged - letting every ounce of pent up anger and hatred pour out of every inch of his body. Hammer looked unconcerned as Peter tried his best to rip the chain from the wall, Knives watching with amusement from the corner. 

Peter was about to give up when a terrible - horrible - awful - heart-aching thought hit him. He would never see Morgan again. He was going to die here, and he would never see her again. That was farewell.

With a new spark of rage he pulled, placed his right foot against the wall and jerking backwards. He heard the chain shatter, and the force of kicking off the wall had Peter falling backwards onto the floor. He grunted in pain, the left half of his body screaming at the stab of discomfort. 

Hammer cried out, as he and Knives ducked out of the room. Peter - with boiling rage seeping out of his body turned to the door that had no handle and pounded his fists against it - bang - bang - YOU TOOK ME AWAY FROM MY FAMILY - bang - I HAVE LOST EVERY SINGLE PERSON I LOVE - bang - I HATE YOU - BANG! 

This time he smelled it - stronger than it had ever been and sickeningly sweet. He wanted to throw up as his head spun and a heavy fever leached into his body. His limbs growing horribly heavy as he bent in on himself, sinking to the ground and throwing out one more fist - bang - as he heard someone laughing from outside his room.


	11. (Graceless) - How Do I Live Through This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... here it is. Graceless. The most violent chapter that I have written, arguably ever. So here it is. I am putting this out there a little bit early, because honestly I want to get all of your opinions as soon as possible. 
> 
> Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! If I wrote down the warnings, it would completely spoil the chapter. It is a lot. Please do not come scream at me angrily (I love being screamed at in a good way!) But don't say I didn't warn you!
> 
> I PROMISE the good stuff is coming! But here is some wonderfully horrible whump! 
> 
> Song: Smother x Daughter

When Peter woke with a pounding headache, the first thing that he noticed was the leather mouth piece that was once again in place. He tried to wriggle out of wherever he was, unable to peel his eyes open due to the lasting effects of the drug. Peter noticed rather quickly that he was completely restrained. 

With a grunt of effort, he peeled his eyes open to stare at the blinding white ceiling. Peter tried to look down, but stopped with a jerk. The thick leather strap that was wrapped around his mouth seemed to be latched to the metal table that he was laying on. Whenever he tried to pick his head up, he got very little movement with it. 

Panic began to lace through Peter’s body as he remembered seeing the surgical table that had been laid out in the vast room. He felt his breaths catching in his throat as he began to writhe against the table. He felt cool metal straps across his ankles and thighs, his abdomen, keeping him from moving his hips. He felt the same metal restraint over his chest, forearms, and biceps. He was completely restrained, no way to bend out of the grasp of the biting metal. 

He could feel the weight of the building on him - the fateful homecoming night that had left him with so much baggage - as he was no longer allowed to move. But there was no concrete to be lifted, no yelling for help, he was trapped with no way out. 

Peter heard the door opening and his heart rate began to pick up drastically. He heard a quiet laugh from the corner, and Peter felt all of his self control go out of the window. Peter began to pull - yanking and jerking his body against the bounds of the table in any possible way to get out of this room. 

Peter stopped when a warm hand rested on his bare stomach. He looked up, seeing Hammer staring down at him with a dark glee in his eyes. 

“Listen - before my dear friend Damien arrives - I wanted to have a brief conversation with you.” Hammer began to pat Peter on the head, like he was a dog. Peter tried to jerk away, his neck being caught by the leather on his jaw. “I really want you to know that this isn’t personal. Well, it’s personal for Stark, but I couldn’t pain him in any way other than harming his kids. Now, I could have just used Miss Stark, but let’s be honest, even I have my boundaries. But you, I can hurt Tony just as badly by using you.” Hammer looked up watching as another man entered the room. Peter tried to look at the new person, but cursed inwardly at the tug on his head. 

Then a new man entered, someone Peter had not seen before. He was tall and broad, with a face like steel. His eyes were so pale that Peter felt as though he were staring straight into ice. The man, Damien, walked straight up to Peter, turning his head to examine him. Like a hunter going in for the kill. 

“Are you ready? I already have the camera set up - this is going to be a horror show for Stark. Can you imagine? He is crying with joy about having his daughter back just to realize that the thing we have here gave up his comfort and sanity for her.” Hammer made an amused noise. “Go ahead, do what I paid you to do.” Hammer said before stepping back. 

___

All he knew was pain. In every inch of his entire body. Nothing more existed. Over and over again. Slices, tears, and hits. He had more broken knuckles than intact ones. There was something wrong with his right knee. Something so wrong. He had no clue how long he had been tied to this table. How many injuries had experienced, but when Damien had stepped away, Peter could have sworn that it had been the 24 hour period that Hammer had spoken of. He had felt as though it had been longer than that, but he prayed that it was over. 

“Stand him up.” Peter’s body jerked, he had yet to hear Damien speak, and the rough voice caught him off guard. Peter heard the clinking of metal and undoing of locks. Then hands were lifting him up and he screamed into the leather gag, his body completely limp. He held no more energy as Knives and Knuckles hauled him off the table. 

Peter felt tears leaking from him in relief as he was drug from the bed. Pain shot up his spine, but he was being drug through the room. The men carried him down the stairs, his feet dragging painfully behind him. His muffled cries did nothing to discourage the men around him. They made it to the floor that his room was on, but the men did not stop at the usual door. Rather, they took him one door farther down, and Peter began to squirm against their bruising grips. 

He mumbled complaints, begging, and pleading for them to stop - but it didn’t matter. Hammer was waiting in this room with another camera, rolling his eyes at Peter’s shenanigans. 

“Oh, Mr. Parker, did you really think that it had been twenty-four hours? You have,” He paused dramatically, checking his watch. “Twelve hours left to go.” And Peter broke. Sobs being ripped from him at a faster pace as the men hauled him up. 

“We have two more forms of fun left.” Damien said as he walked into the room, wiping Peter’s blood from his hands with a cloth. “This one, well let’s just say that it is my personal favorite.” Damien nodded to Knives and Knuckles as they pulled his arms tightly behind him. Peter cried out at the sharp pinch between his arms. 

He felt two manacles pinching his arms tightly together, straight out behind him, before something clicked into place holding them up. He tried to bend over, but the chains just held his body higher. When the two men holding him up let go, Peter’s knees buckled and he cried out at the strain on his arms. 

With every ounce of strength left in his body, Peter locked his knees, working to relieve some of the pressure that was building up on him. He watched as Hammer smirked in the corner behind a blinking red camera. 

Peter could handle this. If he had to stand like this, he could handle it. He just had to put his mind to it. 

Then he heard the clicking of a chain. 

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

And he screamed. A fire was set, burning from both shoulders, up and down his spine as he heard two very audible “pops”. Black spots danced viciously across his vision and Peter begged desperately to pass out. The pain was so excruciating that his limbs began to go numb. Like when you put your hand under water that was so hot that it felt cold. 

Peter’s toes could barely reach the floor, as he was left hanging from the ceiling with electricity spiraling throughout his body. 

It felt like Peter blinked, but when he opened his eyes it was just him and the camera sitting in the room. The pain was only growing worse and Peter could swear that both of his shoulders were being pulled from his body. 

He cried. Weeping from a horrible cocktail of pain and hopelessness. Peter let his chin fall to his chest as he felt blood slowly dripping from the cuts that remained opened sluggishly, his blood clotting slower than it ever had in his entire life. 

He blinked slowly, his vision fading into black as he thanked God for the peace of unconsciousness. 

___

Peter woke up to the feeling of hands catching him, keeping him from falling on his face. His entire body was slick with sweat as the grips on his arms did nothing but cause him more terrible pain. 

He wanted help. He needed help. What Peter would give for a kind touch - one that didn’t bruise or cut. One that would run its fingers lovingly into his hair, and wipe the sweat from his forehead. Peter wanted Tony. He needed Tony. To feel the love of a father, to feel safe. God how it would bring rest to his soul that he hadn’t felt in so long. 

Then he was being drug to the wall on his left, he saw two manacles there and had he held any energy, he would have fought with everything he had to keep from being placed in them. 

But he was placed, back firmly against the cinder blocks, as his wrists were latched into the manacles. It held his arms in a strange position, pinching the bloodied and blistered skin of his wrists, and binding his elbows just enough to keep him seated up. He was unable to lay down or get very comfortable, but there wasn’t any pain other than the burning that remained in his shoulders and back. 

Then, because this was Justin Hammer, and nothing could ever be painless, the man walked forward with some type of collar. It had a four inch metal piece sticking vertically on it, both ends holding a forked prong. Peter turned his head away from the man, but he could do nothing other than try and sink into the bricks behind him as Hammers fingers undid the latch of the gag. Peter opened his jaw slowly, smacking his lips bitterly as his mouth ached from the dryness. 

“Well, you have done so well up until now Mr. Parker. Two hours left, and you will get your break. Look at the camera and say hi to Tony. How do you think he feels?” Hammer questioned as Peter’s eyes locked with the flashing red light. He didn’t have the energy to keep his eyes more than halfway open, let alone actually speak. “What do you think Tony and Morgan are doing right now? Eating her favorite foods and watching a nice movie, would be my guess? I mean, he may not even open this email. If you think about it, he got exactly what he wanted. Maybe I should just kill you now, spare him the little guilt he may feel for letting you suffer for his kid.” And at this point, Peter may have accepted that fate. 

But Hammer was not that kind. And suddenly a sharp prick of pain touched under his chin, forcing his head up before the same spike of pain hit right at the soft spot of skin above his sternum. It forced Peter's head to an achingly uncomfortable position as it was latched behind him like a collar. 

Peter tried to shift his jaw, but immediately stopped when the prongs dug further into his skin. He was forced to hold his head up on its own, lest the blades cut into his throat.   
“If you can hold this for two hours then we are done. Good luck.” Then Hammer was walking out the door, leaving Peter to bend his neck back farther. The position was just forced enough to keep him from being able to relax back against the wall. Peter took a deep breath through his nose as his lip trembled and tears dropped down to mix with blood. 

Two hours. 

Just two more hours. 

___

When Hammer returned Peter could feel blood leaking from both prongs. He had no clue how far the metal had sunk into his skin, but every shift of his head, every breath that he took sent another jab of pain through his body. 

Hammer stared at Peter with disgust. 

“You made it, Mr. Parker. The boys will take you back to your room.” Hammer looked down at his phone, typing something out nonchalantly. “You will have a 24 hour break then I’ll be back.” Then Hammer left, as Thing 1 and Thing 2 came into the room. Peter cried out in pain as his neck was yanked back and the collar was removed. He felt as the prongs were pulled from his skin, and in order to get them out from under his chin, Knives had to push it farther into Peter’s sternum before he could get it all the way out. Peter cried out as the sensitive skin was dug into further. He knew he was drastically dehydrated when no tears came from his eyes. 

Then he was being pulled up to a standing position, but Peter had no means to stand up. His head hung loosely, blood dripping onto the floor as he stared at it. Peter was drug, like a dead animal, back to his room. The men, not even having the decency to place him on the cot, left him on the floor in the corner. Peter turned his face into the concrete as the door was shut and darkness finally engulfed him. Sobs wracked his body as he was unable to stop them. No tears came as his body shook.

Eventually, the horrible exhaustion of the day overtook the excruciating pain that he felt, and Peter fell into the pits of sleep.


	12. (Stabbed) - Someone Save Me Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get Tony in the next chapter! YESSS!!! Also, I keep posting this a bit earlier than midnight, but I don't think anyone is mad about it, so here we are! 
> 
> Thank you all for your incredible response to this work! I am so so blown away! :) 
> 
> Warnings: I think just non-consensual drug-use 
> 
> Song: Michigan x The Milk Carton Kids

Peter groaned. He had to have done something stupid on patrol last night to be feeling this much pain throughout every inch of his body. When Peter flexed his fingers he let out a soft cry and laid still, knowing Tony would get on to him for being so dumb. He had to be in the Medbay if his shoulders were in this much pain. He wondered why Tony didn’t have him on any good meds, as he took in a shallow breath.

Peter peeled his eyes open, and felt as though a weight was dropped onto his chest. He didn’t have any pain meds because he wasn’t in the med bay. He was laying on the cold, hard floor of his cell. As he came back into himself, Peter began to note the pain. Starting in his neck and shoulders as tears filled his eyes. It was too much. He knew that they were both dislocated, and he could do nothing to fix them. He could feel every punch, hear every crack of a broken knuckle, and feel the prongs still digging into his neck. 

Every single inch of hope had been slowly drained from his body, and Peter let himself break. Weeping until tears no longer came, and he fell back into a fevered dream. 

___

When Peter woke up the next time he heard someone outside his cell, and winced as light poured into the room, casting a strong beam onto his face. Turning his head, and squeezing his eyes shut, Peter heard laughter. He recognized the sound of the plastic tray being set on the concrete by the door. This was another cruel joke of Hammer’s. He knew that Peter couldn’t stand or walk, let alone use his arms to eat something. But the smell, it hurt. His stomach panged in new ways, and the knowledge that eating would only help his situation had the cramps coming back full-tilt. So he tried, he just tried to roll onto his stomach so he could crawl along the floor. The second that Peter tried to turn, white spots filled his vision and he was out again.   
___

“Wake up.” A curt voice. Peter peeled his eyes back, a terrible heat radiating from his body. Hammer stood over him, looking down at him like Peter was gum that had gotten stuck on his shoe. “I have news for you.” He said, as he waited for the boy’s reaction. Peter, despite the burning interest this statement caused, didn’t have the energy to ask. Hammer rolled his eyes. “You’ll be pleased to know that Tony will be arriving in about,” He looked down at his phone before looking back at Peter. “Four hours.” 

Peter’s entire world shifted. He felt like the room was spinning as he took a breath as deep as his mangled ribs would allow. 

“What?” He asked, or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was actually floating above this room, because if Tony was here, then Peter could be done. This could all be over, and Tony would get him out, and he wouldn’t have to ever be in this cell ever again, because God, all he needed was Tony to be here. And Tony still cared enough to come for him, he still loved Peter enough that he would come and get Peter from this Hell-hole. 

“He agreed to my terms. He will be turning himself in as captive in order to be here with you. I don’t know why anyone would do this for you, but I guess it would be bad for publicity if he just left you here to die.” And Peter felt like he had been dropped from the top of a building. 

“No, no, no.” He mutters over and over again. Tony can’t turn himself in. Peter couldn’t let Tony put himself in this place. Hammer wouldn’t let Tony live past this. He couldn’t let this happen. Tony needed to stay with Morgan, and stay safe.

Peter felt a new rage filling his body. He looked at Hammer with a new rage. This man had underestimated him, and treated him like crap. Over and over again. Peter was done. Hammer had taken Morgan, someone that Peter wanted to protect more than anything. He had put May and Happy in harm’s way, and he could have killed Morgan. Peter was sick of him, he was sick of being manipulated and tortured. 

He lunged. With pain radiating from every inch of his body, but fury overtaking the pain. Adrenaline masked the pain as Peter’s body slammed into Hammer’s. The two hit the floor with a grunt and Peter could tell he had caught the man underneath him off guard. Despite the screaming pain, Peter’s right hand found Hammer’s throat and he squeezed.  
Peter had never been someone to want to kill someone. After Ben’s death, Peter had hunted down the man with the star tattoo. He had put every inch of his being into finding that man with the full intent to kill him. He had scared himself. Since then, He had done everything possible to keep from violence. He used webs to restrain people, but he hadn’t killed anyone. But now, looking at this man, Peter felt a rage fueling him that he had never felt before in his life. He began to put more weight onto his arm, feeling a strange numbness from the dislocated limb that he ignored through the pure adrenaline rush. 

Something stabbed Peter’s arm, he looked up, not having noticed that someone had entered the room. A heavy weight began to fill his body. His arm felt heavy, as something clamped down on his blistered wrists. Peter was falling backwards, being grabbed and flung onto the cot. He grunted, unable to even hold his head up as he heard a clanking behind his head. 

“Damn you Peter! Damn you! We were giving you a break! We were going to give you a break! But here you are, unable to keep calm for even a few minutes! This-” Hammer waved an angry finger at something that Peter didn’t have the brains to wrap around right now. “This is all on you!” 

The door slammed shut with finality, as Peter was falling into a drug-induced sleep, he knew that seeing Hammer with a bruised neck and disheveled appearance for the first time was worth every inch of pain that this would bring. 

His last though was of Tony. When Peter woke up he would be there. Tony would fix this. He would fix it.


	13. (Unfortunate) - Please Don't Let Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be the longest chapter of this fic so far! I also totally just need to rant, so here it goes...
> 
> I have had a terrible night. Honestly, it was awful. I just wanna lay in a ball and not move for the next three days. So I'm letting myself have a bit of a bad night. I'm sitting in my room in my apartment, writing and watching Comedy Central and I'm about to make myself a cup of coffee. If you have a bad night, let yourself have a bad night. But, intend to have the best morning ever. I'm going to let myself be sad and upset while I do my favorite things. Then tomorrow I'm going to do everything I can to have the best day possible. So yeah, thanks to anyone who listened. Know that its okay to have bad nights, joy comes in the morning. 
> 
> Warnings: None in particular... well, actually general pain and whumpiness but nothing in particular.
> 
> Song: I Found (Acoustic) x Amber Run

Peter woke up to a slamming noise in the room. His entire body jerked in response to the light and the noise filling the room suddenly. He heard someone yelling his name as he just burrowed further into the cot he was on. 

There was something… wrong. Aside from the pain that was radiating from every single inch of his body, Peter couldn’t move his arms at all. He heard someone continue to yell his name, as he rolled his head from side to side. 

“Peter, come on, kid! Wake up, please!” 

He knew that voice. He knew that voice. Peter peeled his eyes open slowly, using every ounce of strength that he had left. He blinked slowly to clear his vision, the walls of the room continuing to swim with the drugs. 

Someone was sitting against the wall opposite of him. Someone who looked too terrified to be there to hurt him. Peter blinked once more and found himself unable to re-open his eyes. 

___

“Kid, come on. God - someone untie me now!” Peter winced at the volume of the voice as he peeled his eyes apart. The drowsiness of the drugs being gone meant that Peter was feeling the pain once again, and he gasped. It was too much. 

“Pete? Hey, hey you with me?” Peter knew he should respond, but his arms were absolutely screaming in pain. He knew they were still out of socket and there was nothing that he could do about it. “Kid, come on, you have to give me something!” 

That sounded like Tony. But why would Tony be here - why was Tony - where? Peter closed his eyes again, the strain of keeping them open in the dim light too much. 

“Hey, stay awake! Peter!” Tony. 

Peter opened his eyes once more, turning his neck to see Tony. The man was sitting against the wall opposite of Peter, two manacles on his wrists, keeping him in place. Peter furrowed his brows as the man looked at him with eyes full of worry. 

“T’ny?” His voice was scratched and broken from the screaming, but he saw the relief in his mentor’s face. 

“Hey - hey, Peter. I’m going to get you out of here, okay? I swear to you, I am going to get you out of here.” Tony’s voice cracked on the last word. 

“I need h’lp.” He whispered. “M’ arms.” Tony looked at Peter with more intense worry than he already had been. 

“Ok- yeah. I know, bud, they’ve got you a little tied up, but I’m here. Okay, I’m here. Gimme a sec.” The exhaustion took over and Peter let his head rest on the pillow under his head. “Hammer! Get in here!” Tony called out. 

There was no response. Peter went to move his hands, but stopped, when his arms remained… latched around him? Peter’s heart rate began to accelerate as he realized that he had been put in a straight jacket. 

Peter and Tony had talked many times about the claustrophobia that so obviously bothered Peter. Peter had thought he was getting better with it, but being unable to move his arms had his breaths coming in short and choppy gasps as his chest seemed to tighten drastically. 

“Tony - Tony - get it off - get it off!” Peter cried, as he fought against the pain that moving around caused. His shoulders screamed in pain, but the panic in his chest kept him from being still. 

“Pete, you’ve got to calm down! Dammit, someone let me out!” Tony cried from across the room. Peter just shook his head, tears pouring down his face.  
The opening of the door had both of them stopping to look up. Hammer stepped into the room with a new look on his face. It was one of pride and a sickly twisted joy as he looked between the two.

“Now, Stark, you don’t need to be causing so much ruckus. The kid, his ears have to be tired - I mean if I had to listen to myself screaming for twenty-four hours then I know I wouldn’t want to hear someone screaming.” Peter watched as Hammer walked over to Tony with a strange look of glee on his face. “You know, I spent so many years in prison, Stark. I hated everything about it, but do you know what kept me going?” Hammer turned this time, walking over to where Peter was still writhing on the bed. Peter’s movements were cut off when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. He was hauled into a sitting position as Hammer moved around him. 

“Leave him alone!” Tony cried out bitterly.

He screamed. So loud and choked off as he heard a fresh crack from his right shoulder. Stars dancing across his vision as he went boneless. Hammer let Peter collapse back on the bed as he stepped back to observe his handi-work. 

“I just helped him, Stark. That shoulder has been out of place for two days now. Definitely some tendon damage, maybe cracked bones - should probably pop it back into place, but it looks like I’ve run out of time.” 

“Tell you what, you go ahead and give me the key, and I’ll take care of his other shoulder myself.” Tony quipped. Hammer looked at him, tilting his head.

“Hm, here’s the thing. I’ll give Peter here this key. If he can get it to you then you can be let loose in here.” Peter felt something small with a tiny amount of weight be dropped onto his tender stomach and he grunted.

“You and I both know he can’t move!” Tony cried out indignantly. 

“Well, if he wants your help then he will have to. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go have myself some lunch.” 

Peter’s stomach rolled at the thought of food, knowing his plate was still on the ground, and he knew he couldn’t get to it. The door shut behind Hammer with a final bang, and Peter winced once more at the noise. 

“Okay, Pete, I know you want to sleep, but I need you to get that key to me. I need to be able to take care of you, and I can’t do that until I’m loose.” Peter wanted to cry, he wanted to scream and throw a tantrum because he couldn’t handle that right now. But the relief that he was feeling from where Hammer had popped his shoulder back in place was enough for him to know that he needed help with his left one. 

“Okay, I don’t know how.” Peter murmured as he lay there, locking his eyes with Tony’s. 

“Ok, I know you can’t use your arms, but could you get it on the top of your foot and kick it over to me?” Tony asked gently, knowing that any inch of movement would cause great amounts of pain in the kid. There wasn’t an inch of Peter’s body that wasn’t covered in scrapes, bruises, or blood. He could see it in the way the kid’s breath caught if he inhaled too deeply, or the way that Peter hadn’t tried to move an inch when he saw Tony for the first time. He hated to ask this of Peter, but he needed to be able to feed the kid, get him in a more comfortable position. Hug him. 

“I don’t- I can - um - I can try.” Peter said, stuttering over his words as he tried to think of how to do this without passing out. 

“Okay, so can you get into a sitting position?” Tony asked as Peter blinked up at the ceiling, trying to prepare himself. 

“Mm-hm.” Peter took a deep breath, before he rolled to his right, hearing the key clank down onto the metal cot. He grunted against the pain, but thanked Hammer for popping that shoulder back in place. If he hadn’t, Peter is certain he never would have gotten this far. 

Holding his breath and gritting his teeth, Peter sat up suddenly. He cried out, and blinked as stars filled his vision. His energy gave out, and Peter crashed into the wall on his left, vision going black as his still-dislocated shoulder hit the cinderblock.

Peter opened his eyes to see Tony watching him with worry. “M’ okay.” He whispered, knowing that neither of them were convinced. 

“Okay, let’s move a little slower kid, how about it?” Tony’s voice was laced with concern. 

“Yeah - yeah. Good idea.” The kid muttered. He turned then, putting his right foot against the ground, and bringing his left one around to find the key, he nudged the tiny metal piece to the edge of the cot, then tried to bring his right foot up, but a cramp in his bruised ribs had him gasping, and kicking his left foot out to find his balance.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, just breath kid.” Tony encouraged, wincing as the key fell by Peter’s foot. The kid, now indignant from the fact that he dropped the key, took a breath and held it, as he found the key with his right foot. 

“I’m just gonna kick it to you.” Peter tried to sound angry, but his voice was just getting weaker and weaker. His bare foot found the key, and with one final push of exertion he kicked the key across the room to Tony. 

With the last of his energy used, Peter slumped down, folded over himself in an awkward and painful way, but unable to do anything about it. 

“Hang on bud, hang on. I’m coming.” Tony muttered, leaning to the end of the chain and using his own foot to drag the key closer to him. When he grabbed it, he fumbled quickly with it before freeing his wrists and pushing himself up. 

With a rush, Tony was at Peter’s side, running his hands through the kid’s hair and wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

“Okay, bud, I’m going to get you on here more comfortably after I get the straight-jacket off, then we will go from there.” Tony said, knowing that Peter hadn’t been given any information or choices for the past ten days, and wanting nothing more than to give the kid some semblance of home. Tony fumbled with the straps on the back of the jacket, and within moments he was sliding the disgusting thing from his kid and tossing it across the room. Peter began to cry from the relief and Tony sat him up gently, completely supporting the kid’s weight. 

“Alright buddy, I need to get that other shoulder back in place, right? I’m not going to lie, it won’t feel good in the moment, but I promise you will feel better after.” Tony reassured, as Peter grunted, the kid didn’t sound like he was completely present, and Tony hoped that would help with lessening the pain. 

“On three, okay bud?” Peter grunted again as Tony braced his arms. “One, two, three.” There was an audible crack that had Tony sick to his stomach, as he lowered a crying Peter down comfortably onto the pillows. Tony pulled the blankets up, tucking them under the kid’s arms as he bent forward and rested the kid’s head against his chest, running his fingers gently through Peter’s hair.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you. I’m here now, alright bud. I’m going to get you out of here. You’ve done so good, kiddo, you’ve done so good.” Tony swallowed around the lump in his  
throat. Thinking of Morgan, of how she came to them unharmed and completely safe. How she had handed Tony the drawing Peter had made her do. How he had read the more code so easily, smiling at how much of a genius his kid was. Wanting to strangle the kid for telling Tony “I love you. Don’t worry about me.” Like Tony wouldn’t be worried out of his mind. Like Tony would possibly think about leaving Peter with that psychopath. “Morgan is safe because of you. The team is going to find us, alright? They’re going to find us really soon.” Tony held Peter until he slept, or maybe he passed out, but at least he was somewhere without pain for at least a little while.


	14. (Broken Heart) - My Arms Will Hold You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy, okay so I'm posting this one a lot earlier than I normally do, but honestly I think I'm going to sleep soon, and the highlight of my mornings recently is waking up to all of your wonderful comments, so I post the night before because I can :) 
> 
> Much love to you all! Seriously! From @seaweedbrain3000 and @akillerqueenyouare that made this whole thing possible, to every single one of you leaving kudos and comments that just keep me going :) You all mean the absolute most to me!
> 
> Warnings: None :)
> 
> Song: Holocene x Bon Iver

Peter woke up to warmth. He wasn’t used to that. There were warm fingers running through his hair and Peter could hear someone’s heartbeat and breathing right beside him. He knew who this was, and he could feel his heart breaking. Because this meant that he had started hallucinating. Peter had thought he could hold out. That despite every inch of pain he was receiving, he could hang on to his mind. He felt a lump in his throat and tears welling in his eyes. He didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want this dream to end.

“Hey, buddy? Pete, are you awake?” Peter choked out a sob as the hand in his hair stopped, and he felt a thumb brush over the tears on his face. “Are you in too much pain? Do you need to lay in a different position?” 

Peter opened his eyes to see Tony fussing over him, readjusting the blanket and checking him over again. Tony saw Peter’s eyes and stopped moving. 

“Hey bud.” He whispered, Tony’s eyes holding a thousand different emotions. 

“Mr. St’rk?” Peter’s broken voice came out in barely a whisper. He went to reach his hand up, but he cried out at the sharp jab of pain in his shoulder. 

“Sh - sh- I know, I know. Just don’t try to move, okay?” Tony’s hand pushed Peter’s arm back down on the bed. “Hey, how about we get you some food and water, yeah? It’s cold, but at least it will give your metabolism something to work with.” Tony stood, stopping when Peter grunted.

“Don’t- please don’t-” Peter’s voice broke off, as the tears continue to come. Toyn stopped, seeing the blatant distress on the teens face and turned back to him.

“Hey, listen - listen - I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m not going to leave you again. I’m sorry.” He whispered, his voice breaking as he knelt beside his kid. “I’m so sorry. I tried to find you, we looked everywhere. I’m - you took care of Morgan, Pete. You - God kid I knew how good you were, but - I have no words. You are the best of us. I’m going to grab your food and I’ll be right back.” Peter turned his head, squeezing his eyes shut as the hands left this head. 

His whole body shook, and he knew. He knew that when he opened his eyes again Tony wouldn’t be there. He was going to be gone. Back with Morgan, and Peter would be here alone. Because why would Tony be here? Why would Tony leave his safe, warm home to be here in the Hell hole? 

“Peter? Look at me bud.” Tony’s voice. Warmkindcaringsafehome. “I need you to eat some of this. There’s potatoes, why don’t we get you some of them. Do you want some water first?” Peter just watched Tony, confusion written on his face. 

“You’re here?” And if someone had come into the room and ripped Tony’s heart straight from his chest it would have felt better than this. Because yeah, Peter had saved Morgan from pain, and Tony would spend a thousand life-times repaying the kid for that. But the look in Peter’s eyes - the brokeness and lack of trust - they were ripping Tony to pieces. 

“Oh, yeah - yeah buddy. I’m right here. It’s me, I’m right here with you bud.” Tony ran his hands over Peter’s face. 

“Thank you - thank you for coming.” Peter wept. Tony bit his bottom lip as he bent down, pulling Peter’s head up against his shoulder and kissing his forehead over and over again. 

“Don’t - you don’t have to thank me, Pete. I’m sorry it took so long.” Tony said. “Here, I need you to eat some, okay?” He said, grabbing a spoonful of the potatoes when he notices Peter giving a slight shake of his head. 

“I’ll throw ‘p.” He muttered, and Tony just felt his stomach falling. For the first time he truly took stock of the kid. He was sweating and warm, and he looked so pale. The bags under his eyes making him look like he was one step away from death’s door. Tony had only caught a quick glimpse of the kid’s bare shoulders, and the amount of bruising was concerning to him. He needed to get the kid out of here.

When Hammer had offered for Tony to turn himself in, without any type of communication or tracking device, he had known he would take it. Natasha had said she was close to finding the location, so he had decided it was more than worth it. So it was a waiting game. They would be okay soon, he just had to keep the kid going. 

“Hey, Pete I need you to just take a couple of bites for me, okay? You have to get a little bit of food in your body, okay? A few bites and some water and I’ll let you sleep.” Peter looked at Tony, fever hazed eyes full of dread but overwhelmingly trusting. 

“Ok’y.” The kid croaked out as Tony fed him a couple of bites. Peter took the food, swallowing down the dry and cold mashed potatos as he did his best to ignore the way his stomach flopped. Tony managed to feed the kid three bites before Peter shook his head, his face managing to look even more pale than it already had. 

“M’ g’nna-” Then Tony was pulling the kid over, turning his body so he didn’t asphyxiate himself. Peter threw up straight onto the ground, the vast majority of it’s contents being bile. The kid cried through the pain and disgust, humiliation breaking through him. “M’ s’rry.” He muttered over and over. Tony rubbed his back until Peter went boneless in his arms. 

“Okay, okay - you’re okay.” Tony said as he laid the kid back down, grabbing the glass of water. “Here, just get some water. We’ll call it a day - just drink some water.” Peter obliged, gulping too quickly as Tony pulled the cups from his lips. “Take it slow, take it slow.” 

When the glass was empty he laid Peter back down before he climbed in beside the kid, pulling him close to his chest. 

“I don’t-” Peter started, but Tony shushed the kid - his fingers finding the soft locks that he loved so much. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it out of here.” The kid’s voice was completely defeated, holding none of the usual spark that it did. 

“I’m here now. You’re going to be just fine.” Tony said, thinking that Peter was going to fall right back asleep. Instead, the broken brown eyes found his own. 

“What if I’m done? What if I’ve just fallen into this hole, and I can’t get back out?” 

“Well, then I’ll climb right in behind you. And we will find our way out together, Pete.”


	15. (Hearing Loss) - It's All Ringing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okayyy, chapter 15 is here, and the knowledge that I have reached the (roughly) half-way point is insane! It feels like I have put so much out there, yet I know I have so much of this story left to tell! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! It is a very important one, as it will come in to play in later chapters... a lot! 
> 
> Warnings: honestly, if you're still reading at this point then no. There is throwing up in this chapter. Other than that, no new warnings, just your general whump. 
> 
> Song: Two x Sleeping at Last

Their night had been everything Tony needed. Holding his kid close, tightly up against his chest as Peter shivered through the fever. Tony knew that Hammer would be making requests and taunts soon enough, but if he could just keep him from touching Peter, they could make it. Natasha had been so close when Hammer had emailed. Rhodey had tried to convince Tony, he had begged, but Tony wouldn’t listen. He gave them two or three days. 

Tony heard a grunt from below him, and turned his head to see Peter staring up at him. 

“I can’t believe you’re really here.” Peter murmured. “You shouldn’t h’ve come.” The kid muttered quietly. 

“Don’t you dare say that. Of course I came. I dropped everything to get here, I’m just sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” Tony said as he sat up beside Peter, eyes on the door. 

“Shoulda stayed with Morgan.” Peter said, eyes still closed as he leaned his forehead against Tony’s arm. 

“Why do you say that?” Tony asked as Peter grunted against his arm. 

“She’s your kid.” The heat from Peter’s brow added stress to Tony even as he tried to get to the bottom of what the kid was talking about. 

“Pete, look at me.” The kid didn’t move, and Tony didn’t miss the small sniff. “Peter. Open your eyes.” The kid obliged, his doe eyes rimmed with tears. “You are my kid. Sure, you aren’t mine biologically. But a Father isn’t just blood Peter. You’re my kid and I love you, I want to protect you, and what happened here - it wasn’t your fault.” 

Just as it looked like Peter was settling into the words Tony had just spoken, the door opened with a bang and in came Hammer and his two goons. 

“Well, I see you are all comfy over there.” Hammer said as he clasped his hands together. “Too bad that I have to take Mr. Parker out today. We have some fun to be had.” Hammer said as he motioned at his guys. Peter felt Tony’s weight leave the bed, but there was a click and Mr. Stark backed off against the wall. Peter looked up to see Knives pointing a glock straight at Peter. It was effective in getting Tony to back off. Then hands were on him, pulling him up. Peter wishes he could walk, possibly be able to not look completely worthless, but putting any weight on his legs would result in him passing out he’s pretty sure. 

The men drag him up the stairs once more, and Peter just wants to get out. But he has no will to fight anymore. Because now Tony is here, and Hammer could hurt Tony, and Peter would rather die than risk that happening. 

Today, Peter is led to the chair in front of the screen, and he feels his spider-senses spiking up again. His palms begin to sweat as he wriggles in the arms of the men. They are ten times stronger than Peter at this point, and slam him back into the chair, latching him in and securing Peter to the point that he couldn’t move at all. 

There was no warning, no preparation. Someone yanks Peter’s head back and places a contraption on his head. There was a thick strap over his eyes, and he didn’t dare move as pincers were placed on his eyelids. He cries out as he can no longer close his eyes. Heavy headphones are placed onto his ears, then strapped down so he couldn’t shake them off. Hammer gave Peter a thumbs up, talking to him even though he knew that Peter couldn’t hear. Then Hammer steps away, and the screen is clicked on. 

Peter jerks his head back, but it hits a board at the back of the chair, unable to move. The lights and colors that flash at him attack his senses. Like a knife being driven into his eyes as random colors and patterns flashed. The noise in his ears is what got him. It was a constant, high pitched ringing that left Peter’s head swimming. 

As the time went on Peter felt himself detaching from reality. It was as though his brain had disconnected from his eyes as his body was rigid.   
Then, like a wave crashing onto the shore, Peter’s vision went white and he was lost to the world.

-

When he came back to himself, he was nauseous and sore. His whole body ached. He realized he was being dragged forward, and he wondered where he was. His feet drug over a concrete floor, and he was aware of someone talking - yelling. It was too much. He grunted and squeezed his eyes shut at the brightness of the lights attacking his eyes. 

He felt the arms on his hands released, and in the back of his mind Peter knew that he was about to face-plant into the concrete, but then someone was catching him, and he was being turned over as someone sat him half-way up and rubbed his chest. 

“Hey, you’re okay baby. You’re okay baby.” A soft, gravelly voice whispered in his ears. Peter whimpered, turning his head into Tony’s chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” A hand began to rub slowly over his shoulders. 

“H’rts.” He whispered, and he wasn’t even sure what he was talking about. Everything? His whole body, his mind, his eyes. But mainly, Peter decided that was it. He was done. Whether he got out of this place or not he didn’t care. He was resigned to being as worthless to Hammer as he could be. 

“Okay, I’ve got some water. I’m going to get you on the cot and get you to drink some water then you can sleep, okay?” Peter grunted, not much caring what happened until Tony went to move him and he gagged. Tony turned his head and bile came out of his mouth. He knew there was nothing left in his body, but he continued to gag. His head was limp as Tony had his body turned his body as Peter’s body continued to convulse. Peter felt a sob get ripped from his throat as he went dead-weight in Tony’s arms. 

“Okay, okay. Sh. I know, I know. I’ve got you.” He was being lifted again before he was laid down, his head resting on a pillow as a blanket was tucked up on his chest. A cup touched his lips, and he took a few sips of water before turning his head away as Tony sat down beside him. 

“Take a break buddy, just check out, okay? I’ve got you right now.” Peter nodded slightly, as he let himself go and he was deep in unconsciousness before he even knew it.


	16. (Brain Damage) - Pieces Hit the Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is by far the shortest chapter I've written, but I honestly I ran out of ideas for this specific prompt, and I needed to sleep last night lol. I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless! Things are about to really pick up! Hope you're all ready! 
> 
> Don't hate me for the short chapter! The next one is probably going to be one of the longest I've done for this, so its worth the wait! I promise! 
> 
> Warnings: None 
> 
> Song: Places We Won't Walk x Bruno Major

Tony watches Peter like a hawk, worry shaking through his entire body. He just needed to be able cto get them out! He was going absolutely crazy not being able to do anything. Peter was a wreck. The kid had been drug in, completely limp, giving Tony a heart attack. 

There had been a disconnect in the kid’s eyes, something lost. He had been asleep since last night, and as Tony felt the kid’s forehead his worry just continued to grow. The boy’s fever had become exceptionally worse. The kid was hot and weak, shivers raking through his body every breath he took. Tony had searched the boy’s body, and had known when he saw Peter’s knee, finding the infection there. It looked as if the world’s most unqualified person had ripped into the kid’s knee and just dug around before throwing a few stitches over the top and calling it a day. 

Looking at Peter’s chest had Tony wanting to throw up. The left side was still covered with a litany of bruises from the car crash, and Tony wondered for the millionth time how everyone else had come out of it with a few scrapes. It had almost killed Peter.

Peter began to whimper in his sleep, tossing his head from side to side as tears began to fall from under his closed lids. Tony leaned up off the ground, ignoring the ache in his tired joints as his hands ran over the kid’s forehead.

“You’re okay, Pete. Hey, buddy can you look at me?” He began fussing with the boy’s hair, pushing it back and speaking soft nothing’s into his kid’s ears. Peter began to cry harder, his whole body seeming to twitch and jerk as though he were fighting off invisible monsters surrounding him. 

Then he began to thrash, a broken and harsh scream coming from his throat as his arms waved through the air. Tony grabbed them, and pushed them to the bed before shaking the kid firmly. 

“Alright, that’s enough. Come on, buddy! Open up!” Tony cried out, and then he saw dreary, hazed eyes staring back at him, no recognition held as the boy cried more and more.  
“You’re okay, you’re okay.” Tony felt useless. Saying those same words over and over again, like a broken record, knowing he couldn't do anything to actually help the kid. 

“Ben?” The small voice cracked, and Tony’s heart shattered on the spot. “What are you doing here?” 

He knew Peter wouldn’t remember this. The fever taking all of his knowledge and shoving it in a box somewhere at the back of his mind. So, Tony did what he thought best in the moment. 

“Oh, bud-” His voice cracked before he cleared his throat. “I’m just here to say hi.” Peter grinned then, tears continuing to fall as his whole body shook from the chills. Tony didn’t know how long he had. He was sick and getting worse by the moment, his lungs had begun to hiss and wheeze every breath he took. Peter’s body couldn’t handle getting sick right now. 

“Hi.” And this ripped a sob straight from Tony’s throat. 

“Hey, Pete. Listen, bud, I need - I need you to promise me something.” Peter blinked, as thought trying so hard to process exactly what this man was asking of him. 

“Yeah?”

“I need you to hang on, okay? Because, here’s the thing, I can’t do this without you? Alright? I just, I just can’t get through this without you. I’ve had to do it before, and I can’t do it again, you know that.” Peter nodded, almost imperceptable if Tony hadn’t been watching him so closly. He thought about it then, the kid fading away in his arms, so terrified of what was happening as Tony watched - powerless. It was that all over again. 

“Of course. Gotta - gotta do -” The kid’s voice broke off as his eyes closed once more, and the tension left his body. Tony let out a deep sigh, as he leaned forward despite the heat of the kid’s brow and kissed him on the forehead - listenting to ragged, wheezing breaths. 

“Just hang on.”


	17. (Mind Games) - I Don't Know Which Way It Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so... you guys are going to hate me for this chapter... I'm so sorry! Buuutttt things start to look up during tomorrows chapter!!! But again... I'm so sorry for this chapter
> 
> Warnings: None particularly 
> 
> Song: Into the Light x In This Moment

Peter woke up to an empty room. He blinked and looked around, trying his best to find Tony. Peter sat up swiftly, waiting for the pain to hit him, but he looked down when nothing came. Blinkinly forcefully, Peter stood up and was amazed when he didn’t collapse to the floor in agonizing pain. 

“What the hell?” Peter asked himself as he walked over to the door. He tried to push the door open to no avail. 

“Tony!” He screamed, surprised at how loud and clear his voice came out. He backed up, preparing to slam his shoulder into the door when he saw Hammer’s face in the window. 

“Mr. Parker… are you alright? We heard you screaming for Tony, did something happen?” Peter tried to read the man’s face, watching for any hint as to what the man was playing at. 

“Where is he?” Peter asked forcefully. “Where is Tony?” Hammer squinted his eyes and cocked his head. 

“Well, it’s around twelve o’clock, so I’m guessing he’s having lunch with his wife and kids.” Hammer said nonchalantly. Peter felt his breath catch in his throat. 

“No - no - no - where is he?” Peter asked again, knowing exactly what was happening. He had known he was sick. He had known he was going crazy. He had known that at some point he was going to start hallucinating, but he hadn’t accounted for how real it would feel. He hadn’t known that he would feel every single finger as it ran through his hair, or the comfort that he would feel as he had imagined the man’s voice. 

“I’m sorry, Peter… Tony took Morgan back a week ago, and he hasn’t contacted us since then.” Peter began to shake his head, backing up until he ran into the wall. He looked down, lifting up the grey t-shirt that was clean and unstained and looking at his unscather body. He rotated his shoulder and felt shock running through his body when there was no pain. 

“No, you’re lying! You’re lying!” He put his hands on his knees and took deep, forced breaths. Hammer just chuckled quietly. 

“I’m afraid to tell you that I’m really not.” 

“No, you are! You are!” Peter looked up at the man, and he made up his mind. He braced against the cinderblock wall and then pushed off, crossing the short span of the room and turning his right shoulder in as he ducked his head. He hit the metal wall at full force, and it blew off the hinges. Why hadn’t he done this before? He heard Hammer coughing and crying out as he hit the ground and rolled into the wall opposite of his cell. 

Peter rolled onto his feet, and faced the man who was running his tailored suit over his bloody nose. Before Hammer had any chance of fighting back, Peter threw a fist straight into the man’s jaw, and the man was out cold. 

Peter turned a wild out, looking around the hallway in a panic, his heart racing. He began to run, his bare feet carrying him swiftly across the room to the window. Looking out the foggy glass he took his fist, and in one hit, the glass was shattering around him. Peter winced from the pain of the glass he pulled himself out of the window. Climbing down the side of the wall, he felt his feet touch the ground and he began to run. He could hear the sound of traffic and people and he ran straight for it. He felt pain running up his feet from the glass but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop! He was so close!

-

Peter woke with a start. He was chained to the wall, and he shook his head as he looked around the cell. He jerked his arms and winced at the pain that ran down his back.   
“What the hell?” He asked as he pulled himself up. “Tony? Tony! Mr. Stark - please!” His voice broke as he rested his head on his chest, taking in deep breaths as he braced himself against the wall. He knew there would be no response. He knew that no one was going to be there. Tony wasn’t going to be here - Tony was at home with his family, safe and warm and he wasn’t going to be tied up with Peter while Justin Hammer of all people taunted them from outside. 

With one swift jerk, the chains were pulled straight off the wall, and Peter hit the door with his shoulder, busting it straight off the hinges. He looked down the hall, shocked to see that there were no windows. 

Turning, Peter found the staircase, and he bolted straight for it. He burst through the door, and sprinted down the stairs three at a time. When he made it to the bottom floor he shoved it open and came to another hallway. To the right he heard yelling, then Hammer and his two goons came running out of what Peter assumed to be the office. 

“Peter!” One of them screamed at him as he bolted to the right, finding a door that was dead-bolted. He flew straight for the door, and ducked his shoulder again. He hit the door and ran blindly, the brightness of the sun hitting him with a blaring headache. 

He turned the corner of a street and he saw his out! It was a police car, sat parked at the end of the street watching for speeding cars! Peter began to run faster! To hell with the cop finding out that he was Spider-Man he was so close to safety he could taste it!

-

Peter jerked awake, gasping in terror as he whipped his head around the room.

“No - no - no - no - no - no - NO!” He screamed out as he slammed his hand into the wall beside his head. “COME ON!” He screamed as his heart continued to bound against his chest. 

Peter felt around the dark room until he found the door. When he touched it he felt a give, tilting his head as frustrated tears came from his eyes. The door creaked open, hitting the cinderblock wall behind him. The hallway was dark, except for one, damaged, swinging light at the end of the hall. 

Peter’s heart stuttered as he saw a figure against the wall, the shadows of the light shifting as it swung. Peter walked forward carefully, stepping over pieces of glass and broken light fissures. 

“Oh God-” He said before he turned, his arms bracing him against the wall as he threw up over the grimy floor. “No - God - please no…” His voice was barely as whisper as he stumbled the last few feet and fell to his knees, glass cutting into his flesh, but he didn’t care. He put his hand on Tony’s chest, as a sob was ripped from his chest. 

Tony was staring past him, not looking at anything, and his chest was a mangled mess of blood where the arc reactor had been ripped straight from his chest. 

“Please- no, Tony.” Peter rested his head on Tony’s shoulder before he heard a door at the end of the hall slam open and he turned to see Hammer walking towards him slowly. 

“You know, Peter - you did this to him.” Peter shook his head as he blocked Tony’s body from Hammer’s view. 

“No - no I didn’t-” 

“If you had just been able to handle being here alone, he wouldn’t have tried to come save you, and I wouldn’t have had to do-” Hammer waved a loose hand at the two of them.   
“That.” He finished, as though it disgusted him. 

“You didn’t - you didn’t have to-” Peter stopped because he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breath. He watched as Hammer came towards him, and he knew. He knew he would rip this man apart. From limb to limb with no mercy, he would rip this man apart. “I’m going to kill you.” He muttered, with deadly seriousness. 

“No, Mr. Parker. You’re not.” He said, and Peter hadn’t been able to see it because it was so dark. And with no hesitation, and no warning, a gun was fired, and Peter fell back against the wall with no life left in his body. 

-

When Peter was dragged back into their room Tony felt his entire heart shatter, as though it was made out of glass that had been dropped onto a concrete ground.   
He was - no matter how much he hated it - used to seeing the kid in physical pain after Hammer’s sessions with him. But this - the kid was awake, but he wasn’t seeing anything in the room. And he was sobbing. His entire body shaking with the effort of his cries, like waves billowing through his bloodstream, and breaking over the shore as they tore from his throat. The men had the decency to drop the kid on the cot as Tony waited in the corner, with their daily rations of a sandwich for Tony, potato for Peter and two glasses of water in hand. He set them down quickly, knowing that something was very wrong with his kid. Something that took precedence over the infection and the pain that he was in.  
Tony sat down on the cot, back against the wall as he pulled Peter’s back up against his chest, tugging the blanket’s up the kid’s body as he rocked them slowly, running his fingers through the kid’s hair and over his back. 

“Hey, I’ve got you Pete. They’re so close. I know they’re so close.” He whispered into the kid’s ear. He hated not knowing what Hammer had done. He hated it, and he wanted to murder the man. 

“N’- no.” Peter’s voice was more broken than it had been before - evidence that he had been screaming brutally. 

“You’re okay. You’re with me now, bud. I’ve got you.” Peter shook his head sloppily, and left it resting on Tony’s shoulder. 

“It’s not- you’re not-” His voice broke as he sobbed again, his breaths hiccuping against the irregularity. 

“I’m not what, pal?” Tony encouraged, needing to know exactly what was going on.

“You’re not here - this isn’t - this isn’t real.” Tony felt tears in his own eyes this time, as he wrapped his arms fully around Peter’s chest, continuing to rock him, hoping he could   
get the kid to sleep pretty soon. 

“I am, Peter. I am here. I’m real, I promise.” But Peter just cried and cried, shaking his head in disbelief.


	18. (Revealed Secret) - I've Been Waiting For This Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE RESCUE CHAPTER IS HERE! But, this story is farrrr from over! everyone prepare! It's really early right now (was that a nod to my name, yes - yes it was) but its tomorrow somewhere! So, I hope you allllll enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> Warnings: None that I can think of. 
> 
> Song: The Weight of Us x Sanders Bohlke

Tony had no clue how long it had been. His best guess was two weeks, it was a sloppy guess at best, but it was as close as he could get. But that meant that Peter had been here for almost four, over a month, if Tony was right, and he hated that they weren’t out of here yet. He hated that he knew that Peter was almost dead. Knew that the kid had almost reached the end of his rope, and that Hammer didn’t want anything from them. 

He had begged and pleaded. Offered to give Hammer whatever-the-hell-he-wanted if he would just let Peter go. But Tony had ruined his career. Tony had ruined his reputation and gotten him sent to prison, and then he had gotten out on good behavior, and here they were. And Hammer was going to watch with glee as Tony watched his kid’s life slip ever so slowly from his fingers. And it hurt him. And it made Tony want to hurt Hammer. To inflict pain onto every cell of the man’s being. 

So, when Hammer came bursting into the room on that fateful morning with fear plastered over his face for the first time during the duration of this whole event, Tony had felt a sense of great accomplishment, despite having done nothing. 

“How did you do it?” Hammer spit out - his suit untidy and his hair frazzled. “How do they know?” Tony had pulled the kid behind him, blocking Peter’s body with his own.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” He said, his voice laced with sarcasm. 

“You better tell me now!” Hammer screamed, causing Peter to stir in his sleep, hazy eyes opening with concern. 

“I really have no clue what you're talking about! I did what you said. No weapons, no electronics. Me and my clothes. That was our agreement.” Tony placated, but he wanted to jump for joy. They were getting out of here. He heard someone sprinting down the hallway, and his heart leapt as he saw Goon number one with terror in his eyes as well. 

“We have to go, boss!” Hammer nodded, and turned - looking back at Peter as if deciding whether he should try and drag the kid with them, but a deadly look from Tony and an explosion down the hallway had the man high-tailing it out of the room once more. 

Tony bent over Peter, allowing himself to sob as he pulled the kid’s loose form up to his body. He heard the kid’s wheezing breaths as the heat from Peter’s brow set Tony’s skin on fire. 

“Hang on buddy, just hang on!” He cried. He heard metal footsteps and someone yelling. “Rogers!” He yelled, alerting the man to their position. Then he saw them. 

Steve, Barnes, and Rhodes. They all stared at the two with relief clear over their faces. “He needs help!” Tony cried as they rished forward.

“Nat, Buck is going to run out and help you, bring the backboard in.” He said into their comms as Rhodey knelt down beside the two. 

“Any major injuries I should know about now?” He asked, looking over the deathly pale kid with a terrible sadness in his eyes. 

“Um - he - he has - breathing -” A hand rested on Tony’s shoulder, and he turned his head to look Rhodey in the eyes. 

“Breathe. Tones, we’ve got you. Sam and Clint are going to get Hammer, and we’ll get out of here, okay?” Tony took a breath and nodded slowly, watching as Natasha and Bucky pushed a gurney into the room hasitly. 

“Okay guys, lift him on three.” Rhodey said to Steve as Bucky took Tony and helped him off the cot. Steve had Peter’s body as Rhodey braced the kid’s neck. “One, two, three.” They lifted the unconcious kid, and they were almost to the gurney when a loud, high pitched noise emitted over the speakers. Peter’s body tensed immediately, and he began to sieze, a haunting choking noise coming from his throat as he began to crash to the ground, Steve and Rhodey having been caught off guard by the sudden movement. 

Peter almost hit the side of the metal cot but Steve threw himself down and pulled the kid against his chest. Peter continued to sieze, as the noise rang out throughout the room. Tony wanted to move towards the kid, but Buky kept him still. 

“Let them get him - Steve will take care of him. Steve will take care of him.” Bucky said as he looked for the cause of the noise. Bucky let go of Tony for a second when he saw it. There was a small speaker in the corner of the room, looking inconspicuous. He grabbed Steve’s shield, and in a swift and deliberate throw, the speaker was busted and Peter’s body went limp. 

“Alright, let’s get out of here.” He said, helping Tony as the team strapped Peter in and began the trek to the quinjet,

-

Peter knew they were moving. He felt something strapped tightly over his chest and he heard voices as the table he was laying on was lifted and pushed around. He felt like Hell to be quite honest. His brain was a mess, and his body was on fire. But he knew. That was the problem. He could open his eyes, but he knew that within a few minutes he would be waking up, strapped to that God-forsaken table and he would be pushed through another simulation. 

“Peter can you open your eyes for me?” A voice that he vagualey recognized spoke next to him as he heard something clicking underneath him.   
He doesn’t know why he obeyed, but Peter opened his eyes to see someone with tan skin and dark eyes and glassas and concerned features staring down at him. 

“There you are. Okay, I’m going to get you on oxygen and painkillers right now. We’re going to take really good care of you. Can you tell me what hurts the most right now?” Bruce asked. Oh. This was Bruce. Peter blinked as a mask was settled over his nose and mouth, and oxygen was pouring into his chest, and he hadn’t ralized how much his wheezing had taken from him as he relaxed into his breaths. 

“Ev’r’thing.” Peter muttered, unable to pinpoint exactly where - it was everywhere. His whole body, every inch of his being ached. 

“Okay, alright. You’re going to feel a slight pinch in your arm, but we are going to get you on fluids and some of your spider-sized painkillers.” The man said, but Peter was confused. He wondered if Tony had come on the rescue mission. Was Tony here?

“Hey, buddy. I’m here. I’m right here.” Peter felt a hand on his own and he smiled around the mask. 

“You c’me.” He muttered, and it waas supposed to be happy - it was a good thing, but Tony just frowned and winced as Rhodey slipped an IV into his arm and someone settled a blanket over his shoulders. 

Peter felt so tired. And so cold. 

“Yeah, I’m here. I came, buddy.” Peter nodded as a chill wracked through his body. 

“His fever is getting higher. He’s got an infection, I’m going to start administering antibiotics, but Cho will be more qualified to handle this when we get to the compound.” Peter felt something   
settling around his chest, and it was so warm that he felt his body beginning to relax. 

“Hey buddy, you just take a nap okay?” Tony asked, giving the kid’s hand a squeeze. “We’ll be here when you wake up.” That was all of the encouragement that Peter had needed to slip his eyes closed and succomb to the darkness and the relaxation of finally getting pain medication.


	19. (Creator's Choice) - Just Get Him Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhhh boy guys I almost didn't have this chapter ready in time! Yikes! I have been so proud of myself for being on time (if not at least a bit early) every day, and I'm going to keep doing my best to keep that up! Buuuutttt mid-terms are next week, so I make no promises! 
> 
> Warnings: None
> 
> Song: Bruises x Lewis Capaldi

Peter remembered pain. A cool rush of medication. Heat coursing through his veins - attacking his body as he shivered. He remembered voices. Screaming. Holding him down. He just wanted Hammer to kill him. He was resigned to dying in this Hell hole. Someone said something about medication - about Peter needing more of something. 

He felt a rush in his arm, and the haze of medication took him back to the welcomed darkness.

-

He was cold. Every inch of his body shivered like he had been stuck in a freezer. Peter tried to reach for a blanket, and he wanted to yell at May to turn the heating up, but his throat felt like it had something lodged in it. 

Peter writhed, he needed to turn the thermostat up-

“God, Pete please be still.” He knew that voice. “You’re burning up.” Peter wanted to be near whoever that was. That voice -it reminded him of dark eyes, and a kind smile. Facial hair, and long nights with moving pieces. Thinking and safety. He liked that voice.

Peter didn’t realize his eyes were open until he saw the eyes that he had been thinking about. A hand wrapped around his own.

“Hey - hey buddy. I need you to be still.” Tony said. Peter tried to ask him why, but he began to gag. A hand began to run over his forehead and Peter heard a low beep. He continued to gag.   
Something was being forced into his chest and it - hurt. Peter gagged harder, his whole chest moving off of the bed, a hand pressed forcefully against his chest. 

“Come on, Peter. It’s okay - it’s okay - Bruce - no he woke up. He’s burning up - is there anything you can give him?” There were loud voices and a light flicked on, so Peter winced and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Hey, Peter. I’m going to give you more medication, you’ll go back to sleep, and we will be right here when you wake up.” A hand squeezed his own as Peter felt the ever noticeable rush of medication. 

-

“A coma!” Tony exclaimed, before Pepper shushed him. Morgan was curled up in his lap on the couch in Peter’s room where Bruce was explaining that he had put Peter into a coma. 

“Tony, his body needs to heal without the possible strain of him waking up, and I couldn’t keep him asleep on his pain medication. My guess, is that with the proper hydration and nutrition that he’s receiving, I’ll be able to pull him off the ventilator and out of the coma in a week. Rest, Tony. He’s finally coming out of the fever, and the infection is going away rapidly. We have to get him through the pneumonia, but his immune system is already getting itself kicked back up so I’m not overly concerned about it. Once he’s back on his feet, we just have to get his arms and that right knee working properly again, with some physical therapy matched with his healing he should be back to web-slinging in no time. His biggest problem - well - with what you’ve described to me - I asked Sam if he would take over Peter’s mental health. It’s going to be hard. He will be needing every single one of us to back him up. So use this as a break. Rest, eat, sleep. Work on your own health, then be here for him when he wakes up.” Bruce gave Tony a soft smile before he walked out of the room. Pepper smiled gently at Tony, before tucking herself against his side and wrapping a loose arm around Morgan. 

“Just breathe, honey. Take a break. He’ll be here for you when he’s ready.” Tony looked, from his sleeping daughter who had been ecstatic for the return of her Petey, to his wife who was the warmest person he had ever met, to Peter the kid who had been put through hell that would rise stronger than he was before. With a final sigh of peace, Tony fell asleep. 

-

It had been a week, when Bruce called Tony and May into the room. Peter was looking so much better than he had when they had all gotten home. The kid was still skinny, looking too much like a skeleton for anyone’s liking, but he looked less like he was about to die during every second of the day. 

What truly amazed Tony was how clean he was. Someone had cleaned the kid, and it was incredible to see him without the bloody grim that Tony had become so accustomed to. Someone had cut the the kid’s hair back to its normal length, and had washed the curls - getting them back to their normal fullness. The bruising on his body was almost gone, his shoulders and knee were still healing up, but the hand prints and facial bruising were gone. The kid was still too pale, and his eyes still had highly impressive bags under them, but he looked like a new person. 

“Well, it’s all pretty much good news. We are going to proceed with taking out the tube today, get him off the ventilator, and go ahead and pull him out of the coma. It will be a watching game of seeing how his lungs handle taking control, the pnumonia was a hard hit to his immune system, but I think he’s bouncing back solidly. His shoulders and knee are what I am most concerned about, the rates of healing won’t be what he’s used to. He will heal, but he needs people to rally behind him and encourage him. Sam will do a great job preparing you all but - hearing what Tony had to say about what Peter went through - and looking at the tapes - its not going to be easy. Be ready for it. Cho and I are going to go take care of everything with Peter, give us about an hour and you can all come in and wait on him to wake up.” Bruce headed into the room where Cho was already with Peter. 

May, to Tony’s surprise, wrapped her arms tightly around his middle. 

“Thank you, Tony.” She whispered into his neck. 

“May - it’s my fault that he -” A hand on his chest stopped him. May pushed back, holding his arms tightly and squeezing to get his attention.

“It is in no way your responsibility. The responsibility is all on Hammer. Don’t do that to yourself, Tony. He needs you - he needs you to be there for him. Don’t let your guilt get in the way of that.” Tony nodded slightly, both of them ignoring the shine in his eyes. 

-

Bruce and Cho exited the room with ease. 

“Extubation was a success. I would guess he will be waking up within the next couple of hours. He still has medication in his system, so he will be confused and most likely on edge when he wakes up. Press the emergency call button if you need us, and Friday will immediatly send us in an alert.” Cho said. Tony and May had no desire to stay in the hallway.

When Tony saw Peter on the bed breathing with only a cannula, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. To see Peter, breahting on his own, laying on the bed with mininum medical equipment attached to him had Tony weak at the knees. 

He and May both found their seats beside Peter. May shot a quick text to Happy, as Tony leaned back, closing his eyes as he sighed. Morgan and Pepper would be arriving soon, but for now he just needed to take a breath, and wait for his kid to wake up.


	20. (Mental Disorder) - I'll Build You Up Till You're Good Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay boys - here it is! I barelllllyyyy got this chapter out today! I hope you all enjoy it so much! It was one of the hardest ones that I have had to write, and I don't know how much I love it, but here it is! 
> 
> Warnings: Nightmare and Panic Attack, but nothing too intense I promise! 
> 
> Song: Inside These Lines x Trent Dabbs

Peter woke up to something that hadn’t felt in so long… comfort. He could feel the softness of the bed underneath him, the mattress curving to fit his spine - so unlike the metal cot he had been sleeping on. The next he noticed was that there was something tightly wrapped around his right leg. Then the pinch of a needle in his arm, the cool rush of fluids. The tickle of something in his nose - Peter grunted, lifting his hand to pull it out of his nose, a hand on his stopped him and Peter flinched - at least he thinks he did. 

“Hey, Peter. Baby, can you look at me?” He heard a voice that had tears filling his eyes. With a great amount of effort, Peter opened his eyes to see May - his Aunt May who he loved so much - who was safe and standing in front of him - who was suddenly wrapping her arms so tightly around his shoulders, tucking his face against her shoulder as she whispered sweet-nothings to him. 

“May, where’s T-” She pulled back before he could even finish his sentence, and Peter looked around the room slowly. May and Tony were standing right beside him, Happy was snoring on a chair in the corner and Pepper and - Morgan! Oh - she was safe, and okay, and whole, and warm, and no where near Justin Hammer. 

“Hey, buddy, can you take some deep breaths for me?” Tony asked as Peter turned to look at him again. 

“M’-m’ okay. It’s just, Morgan’s here.” He whispered, hsi voice scratchy from lack of use.

“Yeah, she’s okay. She’s just sleeping, it's pretty late right now.” Peter nodded, then he turned his head and coughed into his arm, wincing at the pain in his throat. 

“Do you want water or juice, baby?” May asked as she turned to a tray sat beside her. Peter just stared at her. Water or… juice? He could have juice? He could eat if he wanted to - but Peter didn’t want to ask for too much right now. “Peter?” May said, her voice gentle and calm. 

“Um - I’ll have - I guess the juice.” He whispered, and May was lifting a small cup to his lips and a straw was in between them - and it tasted so sweet! The apple juice soothed his throat in all the right ways as Peter gulped down the whole glass before relaxing into the warm pillows. His eyelids were heavy already, and a hand rubbing up and down his forearm had Peter sound asleep within seconds. 

-

It was so cold. He felt their hands, pulling - cutting - hitting - and he screamed. He was tied to the chair, something wrapped so tightly around his arms, that no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t get out. He heard yelling, turning to see Hammer smiling at him, blood dripping down his teeth. A pure panic ran through Peter’s entire body as he continued to thrash and fight. 

“You’ll never escape me, Mr. Parker. I mean, don’t you know that by now?” Hammer came closer to Peter, but with a last thrash, he broke free. Peter began to run, he turned hallway after hallway, but every time he turned a corner, sure that he was about to see an ‘exit’ sign, he just saw another hallway. 

“You’ll never escape - Peter!” He couldn’t breath - it was a maze and he was never going to get out. 

“Peter! Wake up!” He hit himself in the face, screaming when arms rested on his own. 

“Wake up Peter, wake up!” 

Like bursting out of water, and everything faded back in, Peter gasped himself awake, flying into a sitting position. It was so bright - and there was a loud and ear-shattering beeping in his ears. Someone was yelling as Peter shoved hands away from him. He was done being Hammer’s chew toy, he was completely sick and tired of it. 

Peter pushed away from reaching hands, and found himself falling - falling - he crashed onto cold tile with a bang, and he winced at the sharp sting in his arm. There was a door being slammed open, and loud voices, and someone was screaming and crying and thrashing - and he felt a monster of terror coursing throughout every muscle in his body. 

Then there was a face in front of his, and the screaming - him? - stopped and the worried brown eyes were searching his face and Tony’s mouth was moving, and then Peter was gasping down a deep breath, and coughing as it caused his chest to tighten too much. 

“Peter - just keep breathing, alright buddy? You’re safe - you’re safe.” Tony whispered, his hand finding the back of Peter’s head and pulling him close. Realizing that he was in the medbay, Peter let himself melt against Tony as he began to sob, his body shaking with every hiccupping breath he took. 

“I can’t- I can’t - I can’t breathe - oh God - I can’t breathe!” Peter began to push against Tony, but the stab of pain in his shoulders had him wincing. In the end the terror won out over the pain and he shoved even harder. Tony slid along the floor, and for the first time Peter noticed Helen Cho was in the room, and she pushed past Tony this time, and knelt down by where Peter was   
shivering against the wall. 

“Peter, I’m going to give you a mild sedative to bring your heart rate and blood pressure down a bit. It’s not going to knock you out, but it will help you calm down.” To be honest, Peter doesn’t know if he really heard what she was saying, but a prick in his arm had him flinching away from her. Then strong arms were lifitng him up, and he was back in the bed. Somethign warm settled over his shoulders as Peter finally felt able to take in a deep breath. 

“Hey, Pete. I’ve got someone that’s been wanting to see you for a while now - you think you’re up for a cuddley little visitor to take a nap with you?” Tony asked as Peter sighed against the fingers that massaged at his scalp, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. 

Helen readjusted all of the medical equipment, Peter winced when she re-inserted the IV, but then he heard the door swing open, and his heart stopped. Because there, being led in and looking so nervous and shy was Morgan. Peter felt a sob lodge into his throat and then she was sprinting towards him, and jumping into the bed, and screw the pain in his shoulders, because he was wrapping her into the biggest and most secure hug that he could muster. 

“Peter - I thought - I wanted you to come home!” She cried, and before he knew it he was sobbing as he kissed her head. 

“I know - I know. I’m here. I’m here now, Mo. I’m not going to leave you again.” He whispered. And as the medicine Cho gave him began to really kick in, the two of them were tucked under the electric blanket, and Tony watched. Tears streaming down his face as both of his kids lay safely in his sight, sound asleep tucked against one another. He sat down gently, but not before snapping a quick photo of the two of them together. 

It wasn’t going to be easy to show Peter he was safe again, but Tony would whisper those words to him over and over again - every second of every day - to convince Peter that he was okay now.


	21. (Lethal) - It's Too Good To Be True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I barelllyyy got this chapter out too oof- life is kicking me in the tail! But at least I got it here and forty-five minutes early! Yay! Please enjoy! I am so thankful for every single one of you! 
> 
> Warning: Suicide thoughts (kinda - not really, just be careful while reading) 
> 
> Song: Medicine x Daughter

Peter woke up to Tony being sound asleep on the couch next to him. He jerked awake with a gasp, but looking around he felt his hands beginning to shake. Hammer had gotten better. The designs of the illusions were getting more and more realistic, and this was the longest that he had been stuck in one of these. Hammer was starting to really toy with him - and he was sick of it. He was done with this - this perfect reality. Where they were saved, and he was in litte to no pain, and he could cuddle up with Morgan, and Peter was so sick of his brain being played with like a ball. 

Peter silently slipped the pulse-ox off his finger, and his hands found the IV in his arm, quickly sliding it out, ignoring the blood that smudged onto his arm. He pushed the blankets back and rolled his legs off the side of the bed. 

He his the floor, wincing and taking the pressure off of his ruined knee. There was a thick bandage around his knee, and he winced as he walked (hopped) out of the room. Peter slipped out of the door, and looked around the med bay. He had no clue how Hammer had so perfectly mastered the sight and smell of the place, but Peter was going to get out of this simulation one way or another. 

He hopped to the elevator, and slammed his hand on the button, eyes wildly gazing around the room - waiting to see Hammer come running from around the corner with blood running from his mouth and crazed eyes like he had been last time. 

The elevator dinged open, and he flinched at the sound. Peter stepped inside, and hit the button to the top floor. The elevator made quick work of getting him to the thirteenth floor of the compound. He stepped out into the deserted hallway and found the glass door to the outside. He pushed it open and winced at the brisk bite of the winter. A thought hit him - he missed Christmas. Oh well - that was the least of his problems. 

Peter found the ledge and took a deep breath, snow melting on his arms as he shivered in the thin sweatshirt and pajama pants that he had on. Peter braced his arms on the ledge, wincing at the stab of pain that shot down his arms. He hopped up on his good leg, and almost tumbled straight off the ledge, but he righted himself and stood up straight. 

Peter stared out at the woods - the pine trees were beautiful, snow covered and they looked haunting as the moon bounced off the snow in the dark of the night. He felt a sob in his chest, and he let himself begin to sob. 

Taking a deep breath, Peter let out a throaty scream, leaning forward as his breath fogged in the air. 

“WHY!” His voice cried, cracked and broken and filled with every inch of pain that he was feeling. “Why me?” He sobbed. “I’m DONE Hammer! Just - I’m done! You’re not going to put me through anymore of these simulations! I’m done being played! Find another game!” He said as he screamed at the sky. 

Taking a deep breath, steadying himself, Peter leaned forward, arms stretched out at his sides as he took one last - peace-filled breath. This may be the last time that he could be at the compound - the last time he could have seen Tony - was he willing to give it up? He hesitated, but he knew that he would rather be stuck in his horrid reality than trapped in a million fake ones.   
Peter began to lean forward, but hands were ripping him backwards. It was like he was being pulled from under water as Peter tumbled painfully to the gravel ground, wincing at the sting of rocks hitting his back. He began to realize how much his feet were hurting, and how his body was shaking and shivering because holy - it was freezing cold. 

“Peter! Oh my God - get Cho! And Tony!” Someone said as Peter was being lifted, but he began to fight. 

“NO! Let me go! Hammer - let me - NO!” He screamed, arching his back and trying to rip away from the arms that were hugging him, pulling him against someone’s chest.

“Peter - it’s Bucky! Alright, Hammer’s not here. You’r eat the compound, its snowing and it’s freezing cold outside - just stop fighting me, alright?” Then he was being lifted, and he saw a woman with a straight face - Natasha - opening the door as Bucky pulled him into the hallway. Just then the elevator dinged and Tony and Cho came bursting out. 

“Oh - God - come on, come on, Peter - hey buddy, you’re at the compound, okay? You’re here and you’re okay. Just relax.” Tony said, leaning into Peter’s point of vision. 

“He’s too cold - his feet are bleeding - Mr. Barnes can you get him down to his room?” A woman’s voice, Peter leaned away. “Friday, up the temperature in Peter’s recovery room.” 

Then he was moving again, down and there was the warm body behind him as he continued to shake. 

“No- no - no- Hammer -he - it’s too good - it’s too good.” He whispered through chattering teeth. Then he was being placed in a bed and a - warm - blanket was being placed onto him, something was being wrapped around his feet, and he was still crying, but then someone was climbing into the bed beside him, and a he was being wrapped up against someone’s body.  
“Hey, Peter, buddy - I need you to listen to me, okay?” Peter nodded, leaning into Mr. Stark’s touch. “This is real. Nat found us, hacked into the video feed and got our location.They got us out of there, okay? And you’re never going back. We’ve got you and you’re safe. You’re safe.” Peter felt his tears coming back on, stronger than they had before, because he knew that this was real. It was real, and he was really home and with Tony and they were safe, and Hammer wouldn’t touch him again - and he was done being scared. “You okay?” Tony asked, worry evident in the newfound tears on the kid’s face. 

“Yeah - I’m just… I’m home.”


	22. (Drown) - Keep Holding Me Above Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love to leave off my chapters with dramatic bits of monologue. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of suicide & anxiety attack
> 
> Song: Liability x Lorde

“So, I’m - released?” Peter asked warily, looking between Cho and Tony. May had gone back to work today. Peter was going to live at the compound for - some reason. He didn’t quite know. He wondered if maybe he was still on suicide watch - it had been different since that night. An air of caution was settled around Peter, and he was never left alone. 

“Yes. But, you’ll be staying here at the compound for continued physical therapy and to-” 

“Be on suicide watch.” Peter let out, catching how Tony visibly flinched, and immediatly feeling guilty about it. “Sorry.” He muttered. Cho just took it in stride, dropping her clipboard by her side and looking at Peter gently. 

“Yes. But no one is looking at you differently because of this. You have been through a lot, Peter. Nobody denies that. But, you have a community here - a family - that is going to do everything that they possibly can to get you feeling better again.” She said. “You’re released, but you still need to use the cane that Tony gave you, ease your knee back into work. Your knee was pretty severely damaged, and we fixed everything in surgery, but it is going to take a while for your body to fix itself back up. Rest. Heal. Have Friday call me, I’ll be in my lab.” Then Helen was sliding out of the room, and Peter was left alone with Tony. 

“We know that it wasn’t you, Peter. That night. But I can’t- I can’t risk anything else happening to you.” Tony said quietly as Peter looked down at his lap. 

“Yeah - yeah. Um - listen you don’t have to -” Peter stopped himself. He didn’t know how to say this. He didn’t know how to tell Tony that he didn’t want to be a burden. That he knew that Tony wanted to spend time with Morgan - that Tony had his own demons to work with - that Peter was taking up so much of the man’s time that he wanted to scream that he was too much. He didn’t want to be a burden - and all he had been was a burden. “You don’t have to do all of this-” He tossed his hands, wincing at the pain in his shoulders before dropping them back down. 

“Peter -” He kept looking down, not saying anything as the older man paused. “Peter, look at me.” Tony said quietly. Peter glanced up, finding Tony staring at him. “You’re not a burden. You’re my kid. Don’t apologize for anything. This is your home right now. I want you to feel like it is.” 

“I know it’s just -Ham- he kept saying - and I-” Peter choked on his words, looking down to hide his tears. 

“Hammer was a psychopath. And he’s not here. Everything he said was on him. It wasn’t true. Not one word of it.” Tony handed Peter the cane. “Now, how would you feel about getting a litte fresh air? Natasha, Sam, and Bucky are all outside doing some training. Do you want to go watch?” Peter looked up, and smiled, wiping off the last of his tears. 

“Yeah - that would - get outside. Yeah.” He stuttered out, and Peter did. He wanted to see the trees and the sky, and feel the sun on his face - and he never wanted to be underneath artificial lighting ever agian. 

Between the cane and Tony, he made it outside with a fairly littele amount of pain. When the door opened and Peter got his first real breath of air, he felt like he had been sucker-punched. Tears were streaming down his face before he could even realize it. Tony ignored it - and Peter wanted to thank him. 

They made it to where Natasha, Sam, and Bucky were sparring in the snow and Peter wanted to laugh. Poor Sam didn’t stand much of a chance, but Natasha and Bucky were going at it. Peter snuggled further into the blanket that Tony had brought out, and wanted to thank the man. It was freezing out, but the sun that glanced off the snow - the brisk winter air - it was perfect. He would have gladly frozen to death to be free - to be outside. 

“Here, let’s sit.” Tony said, as the two of them found a bench and Tony wrapped his arm tightly around Peter’s shoulders. 

They watched for a while before Peter felt the familiar tug of sleep at the back of his eyes. He was so warm and at peace that he found himself dozing off in Tony’s arms, the warmth of the sun carrying him softly down the rabbit hole. 

-

He jerked awake with a gasp - becoming too used to the terror that he felt from a nightmare. Sweaty palms, shaking hands, and a lack of breath were always there to greet him. But so was Tony.   
“Hey, hey - you’re okay. You’re okay.” Hands were at his face, pulling him tightly into someone’s chest. 

“Where is he?” Peter gasped, shoving himself away from Tony and looking around the field that they were in wildly. Natasha and Bucky stopped sparring, and Sam looked about two seconds away from walking over but Tony held out a hand. “Where is he? Tony- where- where-” Tony leaned back, as thought trying not to startle him.

“Peter - hey - he’s not here. He’s not here. You’re safe, at the avenge-”

“I know!” Peter cried, pushing himself up onto his feet, forgetting the blanket. “I know where I am - where is he?” Peter yelled taking a step back, but the weight on his bad knee was too much and he fell backwards on his butt, crying out. Tony moved forward to comfort him but Peter held his hands out. “Stop! No - tell me where he is.” He muttered this time, no yelling. No screaming. Dead serious. “Where is Hammer?” 

Tony had known this was coming, had known that Peter would ask about Hammer’s whereabouts. And the truth was - he was dreading it. Because he didn’t know. Hammer had vanished, without making a sound. Natasha had been looking into it, and she still had been unable to turn over the right rock. 

“We don’t know.” And if Peter hadn’t already been completely freaked out, he was now. 

“He’s gonna find me! He’s gonna find me! Oh God- we have to - we have to get out!” He screamed, trying to stand again, but he fell once more. 

“Peter - Peter I need you to breathe. I have guards around the clock, the black widow - our friendly neighborhood Natasha - she’s looking for him. He can’t run forever. We will get him. We will, you’re safe.” Tony moved forward, with the blanket, and this time - Peter let him. He was being helped up, but he couldn’t stop looking around, searching for something out of place - someone out of place. 

“I just- I keep thinking - it feels -” Peter let out a choked breath as Tony pulled him closer. “It’s like I’m drowning. Like no matter how hard I kick to get up to the surface I keep turnign corners and being certain that I’m about to be pulled down again - deeper and deeper. I can’t swim up - and I just - I-” Peter broke down, letting Tony take his weight. 

“Then let us pull you up. We have you, okay. We will pull you up and keep you safe, just let us.”


	23. (Unwanted) - This Is What I've Feared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't REALLY think that I was done thumping our poor boy? Did you? Well - hate to break it to you but that aint the case! So, strap in! These last six days are going to be a wiiiillllldddd ride! 
> 
> This chapter almost didn't happen at the normal time. I've posted every single chapter the between 4pm-1am on the night it's due. Buttt honestly, my insomnia has been a bitch. I have hardly had six hours of sleep in the last three days, and I'm about to pass out of exhaustion. But, I really couldn't bare the thought of leaving you all hanging, so I really hope you all enjoy it! Thank you to every single person reviewing! And as always, I couldn't do this without the help of Akillerqueenyouare and Littlemissagrafina! 
> 
> Warnings: Nothing in particular. If you're still reading up to this point, then none of this will surprise you. 
> 
> Song: Listen Before I Go x Billie Eilish

It had been a week since Peter had gotten back - and he was coping. Kind of. It was hard to tell where he was at emotionally. He kept having nightmares. Loud noises set him off quicker than ever before. He wanted to spend every waking minute possible with Morgan, and he felt himself breaking apart whenever she had to leave. He was less on suicide watch now, Tony would give him a chance to breathe, but now Peter found himself unable to be alone. It was too much like when Hammer would leave him in the room, alone and in pain. He couldn’t handle it. 

But, Sam said he was progressing. His shoulders were pretty much healed, and his limp was almost gone, but the cane was still in use. He couldn’t walk more than five minutes without feeling like his knee was going to buckle. 

Peter sat at the kitchen table, trying for the second hour to get through ten chemistry problems, but his brain felt like it was absolute mush. Natasha was sitting in the living area, a book in her hand and a cup of coffee in the other. 

Peter kept glancing over at her to make sure she was really there. Tony had gone to the city with Steve, Rhodey, Pepper, Sam, and Bruce to talk over logistics having something to do with the accords - they had been iradicated, but there was alawyas paperwork to be done and meetings to be kept. Natasha had claimed that she would rather have a tooth ripped out than sit in another meeting (she’d had six that week) and that it was Sam’s turn, so she would stay home. And Bucky - well despite his newfound mental stability, he wasn’t one to be brought forward as a face of gracious diplomacy. So he had opted to remain behind as well. 

The gang was set to be back within the next couple hours, and Peter was shaking with energy - itching to have Tony back in the same room with him. 

“Peter?” Natasha's voice jerked Peter from his stuper. 

“Y-yeah?” He stuttered. 

“Drop the homework. Stark has been telling me that I am crazy for enjoying Star Trek more than Star Wars, care to show me the first couple of movies? Try and change my mind?” Natasha asked from her spot on the couch, closing up the book she had been digging into. 

“Oh um- yeah. Wars is so much better than Trek, here- we can - we’ll - Friday? Can you put it on?” Peter said as he slid onto the couch, opposite of Natasha. She took another sip of her black coffee as the television screen lit up. 

Peter felt exhaustion pricking at the back of his neck. He hadn’t been able to sleep the nigth before, every time he closed his eyes he could see Hammer again, could hear Morgan and Tony screaming for him - so he had opted to keep his eyes peeled open until the sun had peaked over the horizon. 

He gave in five minutes into the movie, though he was awake enough to feel someone settle a fuzzy blanket over his still form. 

-

“Kid - don’t panic. You have to get up right now.” And panic he did. 

Peter jerked up, heart racing, as alarms blared throughout the compound. The room was pitch black, lit only with blinking red lights. Natasha was in front of him, gun drawn, and her face was deadly serious. 

Peter couldn’t breath. 

“Hey - hey - I understand that you’re freaking out, but Bucky is almost here. We’re going to get below ground and wait for Stark. Just breathe, okay?” Natasha said, her hand wrapping tightly around his upper arm as she pulled him forward and to an emergency staircase. 

“I don’t know who is here, but let's just be safe okay? Your goal is to breathe, I can’t fight and drag you at the same time.” Peter winced as he did his best to run down the stairs, but his knee was killing him. 

They made it three floors down when a door banged open on a floor above them. Natasha pushed Peter into the corner, holding her weapon out in front of her and blocking his body off. He coudl hear multiple pairs of footsteps - too many. Even with Bucky. But all he cared about was that voice - that heartbeat - the one that had haunted his every waking and sleepign moment.   
Hammer was here. 

“Natasha- Na- please - he’s here - don’t - don’t let - don’t let him take me - please!” He begged, his voice barely a whisper as he gripped onto her jacket. 

But she was holding her ear, speaking into an earpiece, saying something to someone he couldn’t hear- then she was removing it from her ear and placing it in Peter’s and he heard a voice - a voice that he needed right then. 

“Peter - Peter I need you to take deep breaths and listen to every word I’m about to say.” Tony said, and Peter could hear the Ironman suit in the background, knew that his mentor was doing everything possible to get to him as quickly as possible. 

Peter forced himself to breathe and listen. 

“Kid - I - Hammer is there. He broke into Friday’s security, shut her down. Natasha is going to do everything possible to keep you with her but I need - I need to be honest with you.” Tony paused, gasping as though he were sobbing on the end of the other line. “Peter, Hammer is going to take you. We’ll be there in an hour. We will get you back - I swear -” Peter was weeping, his entire body shaking like a leaf as he held his breath. “I swear to you that I will get you back. Don’t show him fear - be brave. You’re going to be okay.” Tony said, and there was Hammer. And Natasha was firing off her weapon rapidly, but Peter felt the hair on the back of his neck rising up and he shoved her, harder than he would have normally - she flew down the other stairwell, and only due to her years of extensive training was she able to break her fall. 

The gunshot hit the concrete right by Peter’s head as he held his hands up. There was Hammer, looked more disheveled and crazed than he had ever looked before. He pointed a bony finger at Peter, and three of the gang that he had behind him moved forward. Peter didn’t fight - at some point the earpiece got knocked- or pulled - from his head. A black bag was yanked over his eyes and latched around his throat - his arms twisted and he cried out at the pain that it caused. 

Then he was being drug, and Peter went crazy. Like a rabid animal that had been cornered he thrashed and shook his whole body - being lifted off the ground as he kicked out his legs. He heard grunting as his foot made contact with someone’s body. He continued to thrash until he heard a gunshot - then pain - so much - white-hot blinding pain in his injured knee - that he screamed. He heard Natasha yelling his name, but as he was drug up steps, his vision began to fade out, white spots overwhelming his eyes until it all went black.


	24. (Abandoned) - Don't Take Me Too Far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So, we are almost done boys! Holy cow! Only FIVE days left? And I've been on time every day? I'm shook! This chapter was brutal to write, I felt like my ideas just wouldn't piece together, but here it is! I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Warnings: Nothing in particular
> 
> Song: Rescue x James Bay

Peter woke up, staring at his feet being dragged over snow-covered ground. He heard men yelling, felt hands on both of his arms as he moaned from a blinding pain in his right knee. 

Peter lifted his head, body too drained of energy to fight, staring at the view in front of him. He could see Hammer, holding some sort of gun in his hand, running and looking over Peter’s head. He guessed Hamemr had about fifteen men with him, and they were running straight towards the woods southwest of the compound. 

Peter knew that Tony had to still be in route to the compound, but he didn’t know how long it would be. Hammer was going to take him again, and this time he doubted he was going to come back alive. 

They were about thirty yards from the treeline when Peter heard a snick sound, and the thud of a body hitting the ground next to him. The men began to yell, moving faster than they had been as more shots rang out and more bodies dropped. 

Bucky or Natasha were doign what they were good at, and Peter was terrified of it. He didn’t want to be here - he didn’t want - a shot rang out and the man holding his right arm went to the ground. Immediately following the man on his left, Peter found himself face down in the snow, barely having enough time to brace his hands before he hit the ground. 

Then he felt arms on his and he was drug straight into the woodline. 

“Stand up!” Hammer yelled, before basically ripping Peter to his feet. He cried out as Hammer threw one of Peter’s arms over his shoulder and began to drag him over the brush. 

“I c-can’t.” He cried, because he couldn’t. He was shivering - from terror or cold he wasnt quite sure - and he was in so much pain, and his leg was bleeding and Peter was unable to do much more than hobble beside his kidnapper. 

“Then grow a new pair of legs! We have somewhere to be!” Hammer cried. 

Peter doesn’t remember much more than the cold and the pain. His left leg hopping at double speed in an effort to make up for the fact that his right lef was useless beside him. 

He could feel it in the air - the way Hammer was so silent. He didn’t know what it was - didn’t know what exaclty was coming, but the raised hair on the back of his legs spoke for itself. 

He looked around, trying to find an escape vehicle, someway for him to convince himself that Hammer wasn’t actually going to kill him. 

But Peter had practiced enough with the Avengers to know exactly where Hammer was taking him. But what confused him was the fact that Tony had to have almost been here - the whole team had to be less than five minutes out - and Hammer would have never given in to being captured by Tony Stark. This psychopath’s driving motivation was to prove to himself that he was better, so   
why take Peter here? Why commit himself to this fate? 

Peter turned his head, and he knew exactly what was happening. Because in the achingly white snow, there were two trails of blood. A steady stream from Peter’s leg, and a larger stream from Hammer’s. Peter turned to look at Hammer, as the man continued to drag the two of them through the woods when he saw it. He had taken a bullet to his right side. There was no way he would survive it if Peter knew anything about human anatomy, the man was done for. This was no longer about torture, it was a suicide mission. And Hammer wanted nothing more than to take Peter down with him. Whatever getaway plan the maniac had had in play, had all gone out the window the second he had been shot. 

“Don’t- you don’t have to do this-” Peter said through uneven breaths. 

“Shut up!” Hammer screamed as the two came through a clearing. They were at the top of a steep hill that led straight down to a frozen lake. Hamemr stopped, his face a sheer white color as he   
panted. “I’m better than him! I may not live to see his reaction to what I’m going to do - but I can die knowing exactly how much pain I caused him!” Hammer bit out. “I would’ve taken down the   
little brat of Stark’s, but you’re much easier to get to - I guess he doesn’t care about you enou-” At the mention of Morgan, Peter snapped. 

He grabbed Hammer’s shoulders, and yanked the man forward, headbutting him. But one sharp kick from the man to Peter’s bad leg had the kid screaming, as he lost balance. Peter kept his grip   
on Hammer, and the two of them began to roll down the hill. 

Peter screamed as his mangled leg twisted and bent with each tumble. His body went airborne for a split-second, and when he came back down his head cracked on the ice and his vision blacked   
out. 

Peter blinked, moaning at the jab of pain in his head and the bitter coldness surrounding his back. He turned his head to the right, looking for Hammer, he blinked hard, trying to clear his vision.   
Then there were hands around his neck, and He couldn’t breathe. Peter’s arms flew up to see Hammer as he stradled Peter, pushing his weight into the kid’s neck. 

Peter scratched and writher, doing everything he could to get some relief, then Hammer lifted him up, and with a violent shove, Peter’s head cracked against the ice. He felt the crack, more than   
he heard it - his ears ringing. Hammer picked him up again and shove him back down - and Peter’s heart dropped as the ice underneath him shifted. 

“Tony -” Crack. “Will have to live-” Crack. Peter’s vision blurred. “Knowing you drowned just like he almost did!” He screamed, Hammer’s nose dripped blood, and in the pale moonlight, and as Peter stared at this man - knowing full-well his fate - he felt like he had been stuck straight into a horro movie. His blood was chilled and every inch of his body wished that Tony was already here as the ice gave way and he and Hammer sank below the frigid, black waters.


	25. (Presumed Dead) - Take My Heart Clean Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alrightyyyy chapter 25! I already have 26 written so be ready! I just want to continue to thank every single one of you guys from the bottom of my heart! It means so much to me to see how well-received this has been! 
> 
> Warnings: None in particular
> 
> Song: Slow It Down x The Lumineers

“The moon is a loyal companion.

It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human.

Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.” 

-Tahereh Mafi

It was beautiful. Maybe it was because he couldn’t move, the ice water sucking all of his energy straight from his bones. Peter held his breath, floating - drifting down towards the bottom of the lake. He had turned to see Hammer, eyes wide and unseeing - dead. His kidnapper was dead. He figured that he should feel some relief from that fact, but he didn’t feel much of anything right now. 

He gazed up - though the hole that he had fallen through. It was beautiful. Pitch black water - a galaxy broken by death - with a gaping hole, the full moon shining down brightly on his face, begging to be seen. He reached a hand up towards it - staring at the blue light it cast in awe. 

His chest was getting tight, his leg ached, his head pounded. He didn’t care. The moon. It was so peaceful. Calling to him, beckoning that he have peace. Peace with the darkness that would inevitably swallow him whole - the darkness that he leached so many people that he loved. He had always hated that darkness - yelled and cursed and cried. Kicking and punching, hoping to damage something infinitely more powerful than he. That if he could just yell loud enough, or grieve with enough passion, the darkness would surely give him back his family. Re-stitch the heart that world was so positively set on destroying. 

But as he grew closer to the bottom, he felt the peace that came with it. He didn’t have to fight or kick or scream anymore. He could close his eyes and relax. Not fearing the future, not worrying about getting better. 

His chest was too tight. He breathed out. Little bubbles of his breath - floating to the top. He imagined them hitting the surface and screaming. Raging for the life left unlived. Fighting in his wake. 

He didn’t try to stop the rush of the chilled water. It hit his lungs like a hammer and he gasped. His body spasmed - a great pain overwhelming him. Peter blinked, his body stilling as though it had been paralyzed. 

The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. 

He doesn’t want to leave Mr. Stark and May - knows they’ll be desperately grieved. But as the darkness floods into his vision, as he blinks one last time - staring at the palid loneliness of the   
moon - he knows that this was his destiny. And he doesn’t fear it. 

-

For all the darkness and grief that had pulled him straight to the bottom of that lake - when he opened his eyes it was all light and beauty and comfort. Peter felt tears in his eyes - and for the first time in a long time they were good tears. 

He was sitting on a couch that he recognized all too well. It was May and Ben’s old apartment, before Ben was killed and May moved them. She couldn’t stand to be in that apartment, seeing Ben in everything she did - it hurt too much. 

The couch was a worn-out plaid couch that squeaked with every move you made, but wow had he missed sitting on it. 

Peter looked around the room. It was just like he remembered it. Then he heard them. Voices coming from the balcony. Ben had always loved that balcony. He spent every morning on it, with a cup of coffee and the newspaper - waking Peter up as he would whistle his favorite song right outside his nephew’s window. 

Peter stood quicker than he ever had - relishing in the fact that he felt no pain. In two steps he had bound outside and - oh God. It was everything he had dreamed of for so long. 

“Mom? Dad?” He didn’t remember much about his parents. A few things, like his last Christmas with them, or how they said goodbye before they got on that airplane, but they were exactly like he remembered. His dad, tall and nerdy and with those round-frame glasses that were ingrained in Peter’s memory. His mom, with her short brown hair and her kind eyes and soft smile. He dove - crushing them both in a hug at the same time. Tears streamed down his face and he didn’t care at all. His mom was crying and running her fingers through his hair, his dad kept rubbing circles into his back. Peter would have been content to stay there all day, had it not been for -

“Ben?” He questioned quietly, terrified that he may be wrong? That this could be another nightmare. But then he turned, his parent’s releasing him for a moment. 

“Hey, Pete.” His uncle’s voice, so quiet and kind. Holding every bit of warmth that Peter had remembered. He turned, and he cried because he had missed that face more than anything. Ben’s   
death had done - terrible things to him. Peter lunged, and folded himself into Ben’s chest, weeping openly. 

“Ben - Ben - I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, I should have-” Ben just squeezed Peter, so tightly, his large hand on the back of Peter’s head, pulling him into his chest. 

“Hey, none of that now. You know better than to blame yourself for that. It’s in no way your fault. I never blamed you- not once.” Peter continued to cry, but he felt himself release a breath he had   
been holding in for too long. 

“I love you - I love you, and I’ve missed you so much. May - she does too.” He muttered as Ben continued to hush him. Peter stood there until his eyes dried. He could feel Ben’s mouth moving, as though he were talking to someone. Then he heard her voice. 

“What about me, Tiger? Am I good enough for a hug?” 

And God, if he hadn’t heard that voice in every nightmare he had ever had. In every waking moment. Had he not heard her voice in the passing of a taxi cab, in every ring of the school bell that   
carried her laugh, he had imagined this exact moment since their last one together. 

He turned around, slowly. Afraid that he had been imagining it. 

But there she was, the sun behind her head, creating a perfect halo around her dark curls. Her eyes were everything home. And with a bravery he had never possessed, Peter grabbed her face and kissed her. 

With every inch of passion and grief he had ever felt. Tears mixing into their kiss, the taste of salt making Peter kiss her harder. He felt her fingers, at the back of his head, through his hair, squeezing his arms as he kissed her and kissed her until his breath left him.

Peter put his forehead up to hers and just breathed in. 

“I missed you - I, oh God, I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too, Pete.” She whispered, her voice barely making it to his ears. 

“I’m so sorry - I tried - I thought that I’d - I’m so-” She pulled him into her arms that time, shushing him. 

“Hey, it’s not on you. I’m happy here. I never once blamed you, never once. So don’t do that to yourself.” 

He took her hand and turned to see the rest of his family. 

“Where - where is here?” He asked, though he was certain he knew. Ben leaned against the balcony rail, smiling softly. 

“You’re almost there, Pete.” He said. Peter blinked, and when he opened his eyes again his surroundings had completely shifted. He was standing at the edge of a cliff, his family surrounding him.   
There was a bridge over a roaring ocean, and it was met by a bright, shining light. 

“What is this?” He asked MJ, turning to her as her hand squeezed his tightly. 

“It’s the stepping off point.” She whispered, and Peter nodded. He had known he was almost dead, but he knew in his gut that if he stepped onto that bridge, that would be no returning. 

“What’s it like?” He asked, his voice barely a whisper. 

“It’s - it’s everything, Peter.” She said, her lips playing at the grin that he adored.

Peter saw his parents and Ben as they watched him. 

“It’s time, pal.” Ben said quietly. 

“Time for what?” 

“Whatever you choose. You can come with us, or you can go back. It's your choice.” Ben said it in a way that had Peter knowing he wouldn’t judge him. 

“Come on, kid! Don’t you dare!” 

Peter could hear that voice, and he gasped at the pain in his chest. Something snapping inside of him. 

“Where will you go?” He asked all of them. 

“Please! Peter, don’t- don’t leave me now!” 

“We will be right here, waiting for you next time. If that’s what you choose, son.” His father said, and Peter turned to look at Michelle. 

“I can’t-I can’t do this without you! Don’t let this be it - God don’t take him away from me!

“Don’t rush yourself. It’ll be the blink of an eye, Pete. Do whatever you have to do.” She whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. 

“Please.” 

“I love you.” He whispered back. And with his heart ripping out his chest, he took a step back. He watched the four of them, as they turned to smile at him. “You’ll be here next time?” He asked,   
the fear evident in his voice. 

“Right here, waiting to walk with you again.” Ben said, and Peter nodded, assuring himself that this was the right thing to do. 

“I love you all so much.” They all smiled back at him. And, turning, they stepped onto the bridge and Peter’s knees buckled. He watched until they disappeared, engulfed by the light. 

Crunching, tightness, he couldn't breathe. He was choking. Something was coming up his throat. 

“That’s it, buddy! Come on, Peter! Come on, Peter!”


	26. (Freezing To Death) - I'll Always Come Back To You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 26! I am just continually blown away by the support this has received ahhh!
> 
> Unrelated note: I have three more finals! I'm almost done yayyy! And by almost done, I mean I've taken 2 lol. But I felt SO good about my Criminology exam! Whoop Whoop! Anywho, please enjoy! 
> 
> Warnings: None in particular
> 
> Song: Flume x Bon Iver

“That’s it, buddy! Come on, Peter! Come on, Peter!” 

He felt something so cold and sharp coming up his lungs - it burned. Peter began to choke and gasp, and frigid hands were turning him, as water rushed from his mouth and nose. He wanted to scream and cry at the pain that it caused in his throat, but he couldn’t move. 

“There you go, there you go - just get it out.” A warm hand rubbed over his bare back vigorously, and Peter began to cough. Every time his lungs raked in a breath, it burned and he coughed again, water continuing to pour from his nose. 

Hands braced his head, and he wanted to melt into the warmth of them. 

“Bring me O2 and get a backboard out here now!” Someone yelled, and Peter flinched because it was so loud. “Easy - easy. Sam and Rhodey are coming down the hill, just breathe for me.” Peter knew that voice, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Ben?” He whispered, but it caused him to choke around more water and he began to hack again, wincing at the sharp jabs of pain that it caused. 

“Don’t talk - don’t talk. It’s okay, just keep breathing buddy. We’re gonna get you warm.” Peter was so confused. He blinked his eyes open and he looked up to see Mr. Stark looking at him, his right arm on Peter’s back, his left hand bracing against Peter’s neck. 

“M’ h’t.” Peter murmured - maybe. He was burning up - he wasn’t cold at all. 

“That’s the hypothermia talking. Just keep those eyes on me.” Peter wanted to respond, but his head was screaming and before he could stop himself he was throwing up. Peter couldn’t breathe again, and someone turned his head, as a mixture of bile and water poured from his stomach. 

“Let’s get him turned over! Sam, get the heated O2 on him now! Tony, here, cut off his shirt and pants - we need to get him out of the wet clothes, and into a blanket. Oh- shi- okay. Sam, we have a GSW to the lower right thigh. I’m starting a tourniquet. We need to get him started on a blood transfusion and warmed saline.” Rhodes said, and Peter felt a new pair of warm hands on his back.

“Alright, let’s get him on the backboard. Flip on three. One - two - three!” Peter felt his body being moved, but he was so numb - it felt like he had just turned his head. There was a sharp prick on his right elbow, and he could hear the sound of scissors cutting through something. 

“Alright, Barnes - keep him still, I’m applying the tourniquette.” Peter lifted his head to look at what Rhodes was doing by his leg, but strong hands on his head had him staring up at Tony’s face, illuminated by the moon and what Peter assumed to be flash lights. 

“Alright, eyes on me buddy.” Peter blinked and gave a wheezing grunt - then something was being pulled over his mouth, and he wanted to melt. Warm air began to push into his lungs. Peter closed his eyes, letting his head fall limp into the hands bracing his neck. He wanted to tell Tony how much the back of his head hurt - how much pain he knew he was in - but the effort that would take was enough to have Peter falling asleep on the spot. 

At least, he was falling asleep. Until something began to tighten around his thigh. Peter screamed, his entire body trying to jerk upwards but something was holding him down. He began to thrash rabidly, his breathing becoming desperately erratic. 

“Hammer! Hammer - please - please stop - don’t - please don’t!” He screamed, trying to move away from the hands above him. 

“Peter! Peter! It’s Tony! You fell into the lake, you were shot. Hammer’s not here, don’t worry about him buddy - I’ve got you. Breathe, just breathe.” Tony said over and over. 

Peter’s breaths began to slow down as he gasped around the O2 mask. He felt something beginning to tighten over his chest and he shook his head before Tony’s grip tightened and he couldn’t move his neck. 

“Don’t don’t tie me down - please - please - I can’t - can't!” He cried again. 

“Peter, it's Sam. Listen to me. We have to carry you up a hill. If we don’t strap you down, you will fall. Your arms will be free. We’re not trying to keep you held up, we just have to keep you from falling. Do you understand me?” Peter let out a shaky breath, nodding his head. 

He heard someone counting, and then he was being moved. He heard grunting and felt himself shifting, but all he knew was that he was freezing cold, and he was in so much pain. 

“Natasha’s got the bus at the top of the hill! I’m going to toss you down a blanket.” Someone - somewhere said. Peter should probably know who was talking but … it didn’t matter? Did it matter? 

Something thick settled over him and he wanted to cry from the relief of the helpful warmth. 

Peter blinked - and he - he didn’t do something. Something he was supposed to do? 

“Peter - open your eyes.” Someone said. He should listen - should do - open - something? “Come on, kid. Rhodey is about to get you some of the good stuff then you can head out on us, okay?” 

“Do’sn’t - do’sn’t h’rt anym’re.” Peter whispered. 

“Okay, loading him up in three - two - lift!” He was being jostled, but he didn’t feel pain anymore. As his eyelids slid closed one more time, he let himself tumble down into the darkness.


	27. (Glass) - Walking On Thin Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! So sorry about the late post! I finally got the chance to sleep last night and then I had a day full of Doctor's appointments! 
> 
> Warnings: Panic attack, nothing to major. 
> 
> Song: Welcome to Wonderland x Anson Seabra

Peter groaned - his throat feeling as though he had swallowed glass. He was freezing - his whole body shook as he fumbled his hand around - trying to find something to help warm him up. 

Peter didn’t know why May had the AC down so low, but it was time for him to have a talk with her about his lack of thermoregulation. 

“Hey- buddy. You’re okay.” He knew that voice - maybe he had spent the weekend at the lakehouse with Tony. In that case, he’d have to talk to Tony about turning the AC up. “You still cold? Hang on.” He heard Tony say, then there was a low clicking, and something on Peter began to warm up. He sighed, nustling down into the blankets further. “Think you can open those eyes for me, pal?” Tony asked. 

Peter grunted, and with as much effort as he could muster, peeled his eyes open. His chest felt so heavy - like a weight had been sat on top of it. He took a deep breathl and immediatly began to cough. 

Peter’s head pounded and his chest burned as he began to cough, hands turned him to the side as he continued to hack. Peter spit up something into the bowl that was held under his mouth - groaning at how disgusting it was. 

“Ew.” He whispered - his throat making his voice sound as broken as it felt. 

“Yeah - you’ve got a nice case of bronchitis, but Bruce is pretty certain it’ll clear up soon… how do you feel?” Tony asked, as he pulled Peter’s blankets back up to his chest. 

“Mm - not great. My head - ‘nd my knee - I -” Peter paused, blinking heavily and looking at Tony. The moon - Hammer’s blood - water in his lungs - He sat up straight. Ignoring the pain in his - well his entire body as he looked around. 

“Calm down - Peter - I need you to breath, buddy.” Tony said, grabbign at Peter’s shoulders. There was an increasingly loud beeping noise in the background, but Peter just grabbed at Tony’s arms, shaking his head.

“No! No! Hammer - he - I - I killed him! He’s dead! I can’t - No!” He screamed, trying to push Tony away, knocing the oxygen mask from his face.

“Hey - you need that. Peter, if you don’t calm down then Bruce is going to have to inject you, but I don’t want that to happen. Let me talk to you, okay?” Peter tried to listen, but then he was hacking up a lung, his head turned as he continued to cough. He winced, falling forward into Tony’s arms. The man put the oxygen mask back over his face, laying Peter back when he quit coughing. 

“Alright - I’m going to get you some water. Then we will talk. I’ll answer all your questions. May and Happy just left, but they’ll be back tonight.” Peter nodded, lifting the mask up as he drank some juice from the straw. 

Tony pulled a chair up closer to Peter’s head, and sat down. 

“Where do you want me to start?” He asked, as Peter watched him, blinking the sleep from his eyes. 

“Um - Ham- he’s - he’s?” Peter didn’t know how to say it. Every single blink brings back the vision of the man floating, pale face illuminted by the moon, red staining the water around him. 

“Yes. Natasha clipped him while he was dragging you into the woods. You didn’t kill him. He’s gone, and he won’t touch you ever again, okay?” 

“I saw him - in the - in the water. He was - it was… he was already dead.” He said. 

“Yeah. You guys went into the water together. He knocked your head against the ice pretty badly. Bruce said you’ll have some pretty bad headaches for a while, and got a solid concussion there. But, you’ll be better soon.” Peter grimaced, now understanding where the pounding headache was coming from. 

“Um - what else-” He cut himself off with a cough. “What’s wrong with me?” Tony rubbed his face, wincing as he nodded and looked down. He looked - guilty. Peter couldn’t let that happen. 

“Well- you tore up your knee pretty bad when he made you walk. Took a hit to your leg, but it went clean through your thigh. By some miracle it missed your femoral artery. Like I said, you’ve got a bad concussion. You - well you swallowed a lot of water. Almost - almost drowned. We had to bring you back with CPR. Hypothermia due to the cold. But, Bruce got you all taken care of.” Tony seemed like he was doing his best to spit all of this out so he didn’t have to speak of it anymore. 

“Tony.” Peter waited until the older man looked up at him. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

“Well - Hammer managed to get past Friday, disable her, and grab you from the one place I promised you that you were safe from. So, you'll excuse me if I’m feeling like this was my fault. Not to mention that he took you because of me in the first pla-” Peter turned his head and shook it quickly. 

“No. No, this isn’t on you. Tony, I don’t blame you. So please, please don’t blame yourself. I can’t - I can’t handle that.” Peter looked down. “They told me not to blame myself, and I need to tell you that here, too.” Peter said, stifling a cough. Tony tilted his head, looking terribly confused. 

“What - I don’t know what you’re talking about, kiddo? But I won’t. I won’t blame myself, alright?” Tony leaned forward, taking Peter’s hand. 

“They - um - you’re going to think I’m crazy.” Peter wiped furiously at the tears that caught around the oxygen mask, before ripping it from his face altogether. “I can’t talk about this thing.”   
“You can tell me whatever you need to tell me.” Tony said. 

“I saw them.” Peter whispered, needing desperately to tell someone. “I saw my family - Ben and my parents -” He choked on a sob. “Michelle. I talked to them - they told me I had to choose. And I   
came back, but what if? What if I was wrong? How am I supposed to move past this?” Peter was sobbing now, snot and tears running down his face as Tony moved forward, wrapping Peter tightly   
in his arms. 

“You’ll be okay, because we’re here. We’re here. You have such a big family here just for you. We’ve got you, Peter.” And Tony sounded calm, because that’s what Peter needed right now, but he felt his chest siezing up - because his kid had really - he had been dead. And Tony would need his own meetings with Sam to get past that. 

“I can’t - I can’t do this alone -” Peter said as he continued to weep. He felt exhaustion beginning to pull him down as Tony slid into the hospital bed beside him. Tomorrow would be time for therapy, but tonight - tonight Peter just needed someone to hold him.


	28. (Post-Tragedy) - Keep Holding Me Tightly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okayyyy - however sad this is to say - tomorrow is our LAST day?? Holy cow! Honestly, I'm not ever ready! This has been such a delight! And I have so looked forward to sitting down every night to write my new chapter so that I could wake up to your beautiful comments every morning. Anywho - for all you lovelies - I've got a new work in the makings (you can't see me, but I'm rubbing my hands together and laughing maniacally) and its going to be basically a whole other febuwhump, so just be ready for it! 
> 
> Please don't forget to come say hi on my Tumblr! SERIOUSLY I want to be all of your best friends! So - yes! Almost signing off for the last time - I hope you're all ready for this one! 
> 
> Warnings: none in particular - panic attack
> 
> Song: Oblivion x Bastille

Peter sat on the couch, watching as Tony made pancakes in the kitchen. It had been a week since they had drug him from the lake, and Peter didn’t know how to handle himself. He knew Hammer was dead, knew that he was safe now. Tony had spent hours in the lab, and he had assured Peter over and over that he was safe now. 

Natasha, Sam, and Clint were sitting in the living area with him, arguing about what they wanted to watch as Peter sipped on the juice Tony had brought him. He pulled the blanket tighter around his body. He had been cold since he fell into the damned pond. A chill in his bones that he didn’t know how to get out. 

“Alright - breakfast is served!” Tony cried. 

“Stark - it’s ten o’clock at night.” Natasha said over her shoulder, before grabbing the remote and twisting it from Clint’s hand. He cried out indignantly but didn’t fight back. 

“Yes - and this is breakfast food! Therefore - breakfast is served. Let’s go!” Peter went to grab his cane, but Tony held up a hand. “Ah-ah, breakfast is coming to you.” He said as he grabbed two plates and sat right next to Peter. “Here you go!” Tony handed peter the plate as he sat down on the couch. Peter thanked him and began to dig in. 

He heard bickering about the movie, but eventually sound came from the television. Peter finished his dinner, setting the plate on the ground as he stretched his bad leg out over Tony’s legs. 

“Oh, am I just a foot-stool, now?” Tony jabbed, but the only movement he made was pulling the blanket over Peter’s leg. 

“Mm-hmm.” The kid murmered, and Tony knew that Peter would be sound asleep as soon as the movie started. The kid hadn’t been sleeping well - he was constantly woken up with nightmares, and Tony hated to see it. The bags under Peter’s eyes were just getting worse and worse. The kid had been meeting with Sam, but it wasn’t helping him much. He seemed to be withdrawing more and more, and Tony didn’t know what to do about it. 

Peter was sound asleep within ten minutes of the movie, soft snores coming from his mouth. Tony rested his hand on the kids knee and tried to tune out his worries. 

-

Peter was running - but his leg screamed at him in pain. He could hear Hammer yelling his name over and over again. He was running through the woods. Gunshots and yells echoing around him.   
It was so cold - he wanted to cry. 

“Please -” He huffed, his breathe leached from his body. 

He came to a fork in the road. 

“You’ll never escape me, Peter!” Hammer screamed from behind him - his voice manic. 

Peter took the road to the right, basically hopping as he tried to favor his bad leg. It was so dark - the moon hidden by the trees - that he couldn’t see the cliff before it was too late. At the last   
second he screamed, turning his body to find Hammer at the ledge. Peter’s hands wrapped into the man’s suit jacket as the two of them fell over the edge of the cliff. 

-

He jerked awake screaming - his hands flying for purchase to keep him from falling into the ground below. 

“No -no!” He cried as he sat up, almost slamming his forehead into Tony’s. 

“Hey - Peter- Peter - you’re at the compound. You’re safe.” Mr. Stark’s voice hit him like a truck as he wept. Peter folding himself forward, ignoring his pounding head as the man wrapped his   
arms tightly around his body. 

“I can’t- I can’t stop - I keep seeing his face - falling - I don’t know what - Tony! I can’t breathe!” He cried, his voice frantic. “I need to breathe again - I need to - I can’t!” He cut off his cries with a cough as he continued to shake in the man’s arm. 

“I know - I know, but you will be able to. You’ll get better, the memories - they won’t go away - but they’ll hurt less. You have us, you have me. You’ll keep on moving forward, buddy.” Tony had motioned the others out of the living room when he noticed Peter was panicking, knowing that the kid would hate them seeing him panic like this, and he was thankful for the quiet. 

“What if- what if I can’t walk?” Peter muttered, his initial panic leaving him in an exhausted wake. 

“Well - then I’ll be right here to carry you, buddy.” Toyn whispered. He ran his fingers through Peter’s head until the panicked kid managed to fall back into a quiet sleep. 

Peter had been through Hell. Tony couldn’t deny that. The kid was so strong - too strong - he would make it through this. He was going to struggle - it would be hard. But, Peter had the best support team in the world. People who would carry him for the rest of his life if he needed it. But looking down at Peter, tucked safely in his arms, Tony knew the kid would be okay. He knew they   
would be okay.


	29. (Dark) - The Sun Will Rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's only right that the day that I'm late is the LAST day of Febuwhump OMG I cannot believe itttt. But - here are the author's notes, and they'll be long so - hold your horses.
> 
> WOW! First and foremost THANK YOU to @Akillerqueenyouare and @LittlemissAgrafina because I COULD NOT have done it without you! You two were incredible and helped me so much. You mean the world to me - and I'm here for you both all the time!
> 
> Secondly, how is February ALREADY OVER??? What?? I'm not going to know what to do with myself without having this schedule! Reading your comments every morning - it just - it was such an inspiring way to start my days and ugh - I love each and every single one of you so much!
> 
> Third, I didn't know how I wanted the last chapter to go - so I just started writing. And honestly, I ended it with a TOTAL twist from what I thought it would be, but the ending made my heart warm - because it's about damn time I give my baby some HOPE right??? 
> 
> Fourth and final: be on the lookout for my next work! It's going to be SO fun and fast and fresh and of course all the Irondad hurt and comfort you could ask for ;) 
> 
> No warnings! 
> 
> Song: Truce x Twenty One Pilots

He took a deep breath, leaning up against the cold headstone as he set his cane down. Taking a deep breath, he laid a bouqet of black dahlias down as he let his tears run freely. He dropped his cane beside him. 

“Hey, baby.” He whispered before huffing out a pitiful laugh. “You would hate me calling you that.” Peter tapped his fingers on his leg anxiously.

“I just - God - I can’t believe it's your birthday. I - you know, I was planning your birthday back when - well - before everything happened.” Everything was the shortest way to put - everything that had happened to him within the past year. “You know, I had to bribe Tony to give me twenty minutes alone. He’s uh - he’s worse than May. But, he was there with me, so I guess that makes sense.” Peter cleared his throat, looking out at the trees in bloom. The spring sunshine was so warm. He closed his eyes, remembering her as he last saw her, a golden halo of sunshine beaming from around her - framing her perfect skin in a golden glow. He missed that. 

“It’s been - Hell without you. But you’ll be proud to know that I’m going back to school next semester. I’ve - Sam says I’ve been doing really well since - well - everything.” He forced himself to breathe, but he didn’t try to stop the tears that rolled down his face. “It feels unfair for it to be so beautiful out. Every day - I just think that the sun would be shining that much brighter if you were here. Morgan seems to have forgotten that eveything happened, which is good. May and Happy are great, they can hardly stand to be without me, but they’re good. Ned is great too - you know? He talks about you all the time, but I know he visits you all of the time. So I know that you know all of this.” 

“You know - I just need to get this off my chest. I mean, you always told me how much you hated that I beat around the bush. Okay - I just need to tell you this. Then I’ll leave you alone - you would hate that I was wallowing - but I guess when love someone that much - you can’t help it.” Peter cleared his throat again, wiping at his eyes as he choked on a sob. 

“For a while after I got back - I just wanted to come back to you. I kept thinking about how perfect it had been up there. How I wouldn’t need to use a cane, or cry, or have panic attacks if I were with you. But, last week I called your mom - you know, to check in - and she gave me a letter that she found. And -” He leaned forward sobbing, his face in his hands. “Damn you Michelle Jones, the fact that you wrote me such a - that you wrote me a note in case something like that happened - it was everything I needed to hear and more. I could hear your voice, and I just - thank you.   
Thank you. It’s not going to be easy, and I’m still struggling. I’ll always be struggling - for the rest of my life without you - I’ll be struggling. But I can do it. I know I can do it. Okay. Before I continue to make this grass wet with my tears - I should go.” Peter turned around, pressing a kiss to the black headstone, and setting her birthday card beside the flowers. “I love you. I’ll see you when it's time for you to walk with me again.” Peter picked up her letter, and went to read it for the millionth time. 

"Dear Parker,  
I can’t really explain to you why I felt like I had to write this - and you know I don’t believe in ‘divine inspiration’ but here it goes. I hope you never read this, but on the off-chance that you do, please know that I mean every single word. 

Whatever happened was not your fault. I’ve spent a total of twelve hours between you and Tony Stark, and you two act like it’s a battle to see who has a bigger guilt complex. I don’t blame you.   
No one else does. So please, breathe. And move on. 

Know that I’m waiting for you. Take your time. You know that I’m the most patient person in the world. I love you. I’m not going to write a million pages of this, because I don’t want you to   
wallow. Here’s my last request - find someone new. Find a girl that’s going to hold you and love you and take care of you. Find someone that looks at you with all the care in the world - like you hung the sun in the sky just for her - because there is nothing that you wouldn’t do for the person you love. Don’t hold yourself back from that. Just do me this one favor - tell her about our good times. Tell her how much I meant to you, and tell her that I wanted this for you. 

Also, let her know that if she breaks your heart, I’ll haunt her ass. 

I love you.

MJ"

Peter could have read that note over and over, but he forced himself to stand, gripping his cane, and making his way through the graveyard. Tony was waiting for him in the car, and he couldn’t keep the man waiting forever. It was Stark family dinner night, and he couldn’t dare keep Mo waiting on him.

He was so lost in his thoughts, that he cried out in shock when he ran straight into someone. His cane fell out of his hand, but gentle hands caught him as he grunted. 

“Oh my gosh - I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” A voice asked as Peter forced himself to stand up, ignoring the jab of pain in his leg. “Oh - God your - here.” The person bent down, and put his cane in his hand.

“Thank - uh - thank you.” He looked up, staring into the blue eyes of the girl in front of him. She had blond, board straight hair, and bangs low over her eyes. She was holding a bouquet of flowers, obviously going to a grave, but she stared up at him with a soft smile. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. 

“Yeah - the tears aren’t from - aren’t from running into you.” The girl smirked and nodded. 

“Yeah - mine either.” She seemed to be thinking about what to say for a moment before making eye contact with him again. “Do you go to college around here?” She asked, motioning to New   
York behind her. 

“Yeah - yeah ugh - I’m at Columbia.” 

“Oh - me too!” She smiled up at him, then seemed to remember why she was here. “Listen, I - I gotta go, but um- what's your name? Maybe I’ll see you around?” 

“Um- yeah - I’m Peter. Peter Parker.” He said, holding out his hand. She grinned at him, and he felt his heart jump. 

“I’m Gwen. Gwen Stacy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lovelies! Hugs and kisses to you for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please leave a kudo and a comment, they mean more than anything to me!
> 
> Come say hi on my Tumblr @itsreallylaterightnow :)


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